


Siren

by OpheliaDawn1428



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 1930s, Alternate Universe - 1930s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Mob, Avenger Loki (Marvel), BAMF Loki (Marvel), Coercion, Dark Loki, Dark Loki (Marvel), Death, Domestic Violence, Dominant Loki, Dubious Consent, Extortion, F/M, Implied Violence, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Murder, Organized Crime, Other, Possessive Loki, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sex, Sex for Favors, Sexual Coercion, Stalking, Threats of Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:09:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23588938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpheliaDawn1428/pseuds/OpheliaDawn1428
Summary: Reader is married with a young son and working as a waitress at a popular nightclub in the 1930′s. Her husband is fatally ill and his new treatments are swiftly draining their meager savings. Desperate, she struggles to make ends meet until she catches the eye of the son of a notorious crime boss. Loki Laufeyson is dangerous, powerful and very wealthy and isn’t used to being told no. He offers her a way out of her money troubles. But how far is she willing to go to save her husband?
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 39
Kudos: 227





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Hey everyone!! This is a Dark Loki with a female Reader in a 1930's AU. It'll deal with some dark elements so please mind all of the warnings. This is also posted on my tumblr, opheliadawnwalker3 and originally was intended to only be a one shot. But I got bombarded with plot bunnies and felt inspired to continue so there will be more parts. Please feel free to leave feedback or critiques! This is my first fic I've ever posted on here so bear with me as I get used to the new format.

What are you saying Doctor?” You ask in a wavering voice as you hug Johnny to your chest. The unaware toddler mumbles quietly and plays with the ends of your hair with strawberry stained fingers. Down the hall, you can hear the assault of ragged wet coughs followed by horrible wheezing and you bite your lip in dread. The balding middle aged doctor gives the pair of you a look of sympathy before solemnly continuing.

“It seems like his condition has taken a turn for the worse. The infection has spread to his lungs and I fear your husband is not long for this world.”

You shake your head, refusing to believe it. “No please! There has to be _something_ we can do! He _has_ to get better. We-” you voice hitches and you feel your eyes water with desperation.

“The medical field has recently developed a new treatment for pneumonia called Sulfapyridine that may work to fight the infection. But it may be too late to help him. His symptoms have only worsened and it’s…rather expensive.” You don’t miss the brief albeit haughty glance around your homey yet common apartment. You bite your tongue at his callousness, wincing as Johnny yanks on your hair.

“Whatever it is, we’ll pay it. I’ll find a way if I have to work day and night.”

The doctor nods and places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Very well. I will write up a prescription and return in five days to administer. And I will leave you with the bill for today. Just…try to keep him as comfortable as you can. I’ve given him something to help him sleep so he should be out in a few minutes. Keep giving him fluids and monitoring him. And keep the little one away.” He punctuates this last line with a half-hearted ruffle through Johnny’s black curls. You can hear it in his voice. To him, Richard, is already dead. A lost cause and a waste of valuable resources. You don’t bother showing the doctor out, offering only a curt nod as he grabs his medical bag and walks out of your apartment.

You sigh and lean your head down to bury your nose in Johnny’s hair, being slightly comforted by the smell of talcum and baby powder. You feel him begin to sag in your arms as exhaustion begins to overwhelm him. Perfect timing because it was almost time for your next shift at Louie’s. You set Johnny carefully down in his playpen and go get dressed.

*********************************************************************************************************************************************

“Mabel, I can’t thank you enough for watching Johnny for me,” You say flustered as you gather your belongings for the night. Your sweet elderly neighbor waves you away with warm dismissal.

“Nonsense, dear, I’m happy to help. And little Johnny is just a delight.” She carefully picks the two year old up, her wrinkled face suddenly etched with worry. “What did the doctor say?”

You answer with a glum shake of your head. “It’s…not looking good. I have five days to come up with the money for a new treatment but…it sounds like the doctor has already given up on him.”

Mabel reaches out and places a small wrinkled hand on your shoulder. The metal from her many rings is cold on your bare shoulder.

“Oh you poor thing. I know it seems bleak, but I’m sure everything will work out.”

You give her a strained smile as you grab your clutch. “Thank you. I’m going to see if Louie will let me work a few extra shifts to cover the costs. I’ll send word if I have to work late. The doctor gave Richard something to sleep it off so he shouldn’t wake before I get back. Just peek in on him when you can.”

“It is no trouble at all. You do what you must for your family.” Mabel replies with an unusual finality. 

You nod, gesturing to the oven. “I made you your favorite blueberry muffins as a thank you. It should go off any minute.”

Mabel gives you a wry smile. “And you wonder why I’m always happy to help you.”

***************************************************************************************************************************************

Sultry jazz music seeps through the walls as you carefully apply another coat of red lipstick to your lips. Your eyeliner is thicker than usual and your lashes are curled and prominent around your eyes. You almost don’t recognize the woman in the reflection. But ever since Richard got sick, you’ve relied on tips just to make ends meet. The prettier you look, the friendlier you are, the more tips you get.

You straighten up and adjust the knee length black cocktail dress and carefully fix your hair. You pick up your tray and spread your painted lips in a wide approachable smile. In the dim light, no one will notice that it doesn’t reach your eyes. The evening crowd was just starting to drift in and you have a lot of schmoozing to do. 

*****************************************************************************************************************************************

“Louie please, I’m _begging_ you. Richard has gotten worse and we _really_ need the money. I’ll clean or count the books. Anything you need,” You plead desperately as you await for your drinks at the bar. Your boss gives you a brief look and you could almost swear you see a flicker of empathy cross his features. But it quickly vanishes as he pulls another drag from his cigar and shrugs his shoulders.

“Sorry doll, but I have three new dames that need the green just as badly as you do. I have no extra work for you.”

He nods towards the many tables filled with sharply dressed patrons. “Try buttering one of them up.”

And that was that. Louie saunters away without bothering to hear your response. You allow your shoulders to slump in utter disappointment as Thomas slides your table’s drinks towards you. You count one extra glass of whiskey.

“I only needed four, Thomas.”

“That’s for you honey. Don’t let Louie see. And I’m…sorry to hear about Richard.” He replies with a strained smile before turning away to clean a glass.

“Thanks.” You mutter under your breath before you quickly check your surroundings. Louie was busy entertaining a table of wealthy looking patrons, his fat arm slung across the bare shoulders of one of the new girls. His irritating fake laugh is so loud it almost drowns out the slow jazz music of the live band. You feel your upper lip curl with distaste before you tilt your head back to shoot the whiskey. You barely even taste it before it slides down your throat, but you’re far from caring at that point. 

You carefully arrange the drinks on your tray along with a new carton of cigars and fix your carefree smile back onto your face. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************

“He’s back,” Dorothy giggles excitedly and brushes her curly red hair off her long neck, garnering the attention of nearby men. You smell alcohol and stale smoke on her breath. Clearly most of her shift was spent on the laps of the wealthy patrons in her section. You envied her for her tenacity and seductive energy. She always pulls the biggest tips, though you suspect she merely enjoys the attention and the delight of being off her feet rather than the money. As long as you’re fetching drinks or entertaining the clients, Louie doesn’t care what his girls do. As long as the guests are happy and he makes money.

Your eyes flicker towards the entrance to see a familiar handsome face. You raise a brow as you place the empty glasses on the bar to be replaced.

“Without his Brunos? That’s unusual,” You comment with piqued interest. 

Dorothy nods giddily and fidgets with her dress. “I know! And Ruby isn’t even singing tonight. He must be here wanting some… _company_.” She exclaims, allowing her voice to drop into the familiar seductive purr that all men fawn over.

“You think he’s got a rod on him? Since he’s alone?” You ask softly, trying not to draw any attention from anyone nearby. Having the son of the city’s biggest crime boss in your place of work, always sets your teeth on edge. Dorothy playfully traces a finger across her exposed collarbone. 

“He’s a pip, togged up to the bricks. I _hope_ he’s got a rod on him,” she replies with a crude wink. 

“You _know_ what I mean. You think he’s packing heat?”

Dorothy shrugs her shoulder. “Who cares? He’s not going to pop one off in this joint. Clip joints like this only made him richer. And even after Prohibition ended, his family still _comes_ from green. _And_ I hear he’s running for office next term.”

I shake my head ruefully. “Just what we need. Another corrupt politician lying through his teeth about helping the _common_ man.”

Dorothy rolls her eyes. “No one likes an Abercrombie, doll. Stop being so negative all the time.”

“I’m just saying we should be careful.”

“Honey, you can be careful all you want. I’m going to try and get on his _good_ side.”

You clamp your mouth shut and watch as Dorothy saunters over with her tray, hips swaying from side to side. You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you quietly observe.

Loki Laufeyson sits at his usual reserved private booth in an impeccably tailored three piece suit. His usual ornate cane is propped next to him and he carries an air of both smug superiority and utter disdain. His long black hair is slicked back and his bright emerald eyes slowly slide across the room. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when his gaze meets yours across the room. His expression utterly unreadable. Despite the natural urge to look away flustered, something urges you to hold his penetrating gaze. He barely acknowledges Dorothy when she arrives at his table. She tries to engage him with her usual flirtatious tactics, but he merely waves her away with a dismissive twitch of his hand. He never even looks at her though you see his lips part as he speaks to her.

You finally look away and break the odd eye contact, exhaling slowly. You force yourself to turn away completely. _What was that about? He’s never looked twice at you before._

But there was no time to worry about that. You’re on the clock.

“Thomas, I need one Martini with extra olives, four Manhattans and a Sidecar.”

“You got it, kitten.”

You hear Dorothy returning to your side with a huff, setting her tray down a little too loudly on the bar. “His loss. I’m a right catch and I have many other clients who would _love_ to spend a little time with me. Why he’d want to spend time with little miss frump here, I’ll never know.”

“Do what?”

“Yeah. He wants _you_ to take his order.”

You were floored. “ _Me?_ But why?”

Dorothy shrugs as though it doesn’t bother her, but you know it does. “How should I know? He had a looker right in front of him, but he wants the weak sister instead.”

You bite your cheek to hide your anger. She really isn’t worth it. 

You turn to grab your drinks from Thomas to take them over to your table. You don’t let her see the small smile that curls your lips. 

Surely, Loki can wait five minutes.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************

“What will you have?” You ask in a mildly friendly tone. You don’t feel much like smiling at this man, despite that being one of Louie’s cardinal rules. Loki is dangerous and unpredictable with a list as long as your arm. Maybe even longer.

Unlike the way he behaved towards Dorothy, Loki immediately turns to acknowledge you with a conceited, yet intrigued air. He says nothing at first, allowing his sharp eyes to trail down your body. You shift your weight on your feet, suddenly nervous under his lewd scrutiny. It was like he could see right through you.

“An Old Fashioned. And something for yourself.” He answers in a voice like melted butter.

“Oh, I’m working. I can’t drink on the job.” You reply a little too quickly. 

“You _can_ if you’re entertaining a client.” Loki retorts with a sinuous smile. His tone left little room for argument and you press your lips together.

“Very well, sir. I’ll be right back with those drinks.”

You feel his heated gaze on your retreating form.

Several minutes later, you’re sipping on a Mac Daddy and trying in vain to keep your distance from your new patron. But it seems as though he draws closer every time your attention is drawn elsewhere. Despite his many efforts to engage you, you keep your answers short and clipped. You feel his fingers touch your bare shoulder.

“Tell me something.” His breath caresses your ear and you fight the shudder that trickles down your back.

“Why do you insist on treating me with the indifference of a herring, but smile nice and pretty for everyone else?”

You are taken aback by the blunt question and shift your shoulder out of his hand. “They are regulars. I know them.”

“You could get to know me.” Loki purrs and you feel his hand on your thigh.

You feel your cheeks burn with indignation and you slowly push his hand off of you and stand up. “I’m no whiz bang, mister. I’m a happily married woman and I should like you to keep your hands to yourself.”

Loki looks up at you with a surprisingly complacent expression as he touches his chin with long elegant fingers. “You know who I am?”

“ _Everyone_ knows who you are.”

“And yet you still refuse my company?”

You choose not to dignify that with a verbal response and merely lift your chin haughtily. An unspoken challenge.

Loki chuckles, pulling a long drink from his glass. His piercing eyes never leaving yours over the rim.

“How interesting.”

You pick up your tray, choosing to leave your half empty drink behind. “I have other tables to attend to. I’m sure there are other dames here who would be happy to tend to your _needs_. Thank you for the drink.”

Without waiting for a response, you leave the booth, allowing your hips to sway slightly. Hoping that deep down, you didn’t take things too far.

************************************************************************************************************************************

“Why Albert, I swear you get more and more handsome, every time I see you,” You remark in an overly warm voice as you place a hand on a middle aged regular’s shoulder. He laughs and clumsily wraps an arm around your waist. The smell of alcohol and desperation wafts off him in droves. It was hours later and the joint was thankfully starting to quiet down.

“Well I have to look spiffy to keep up with a pretty filly like you.” He whispers much too closely and you’re able to see years of tobacco stains on his crooked teeth. You try not to gag as he presses a sloppy kiss right below your ear. He had already tipped you handsomely earlier, but you knew he would be more than happy to give you more as long as you kept his glass full.

“Hey Doll, need to see you in my office,” you hear Louie’s gruff voice utter behind you. You give Albert a sweet, apologetic smile before turning to acknowledge your boss.

“I’m a little busy here, Lou, is it terribly important?”

“Only if you want to make some more money tonight.”

That got your attention. You turn and pressed your red lips against Albert’s sallow cheek. “Sorry, honey. I gotta go.”

You start to head for Louie’s office, then notice your boss isn’t following you. He notices your hesitation and gestures you forward.

“Go on ahead and wait for me. I gotta take care of a few things first.”

Your brows furrow together, but you oblige and walk up to his office. You’d only been in a handful of times but you knew Louie took great pride in his smooth swanky office. While the night club looked nice, his office was where he put his most expensive and prized possessions.

But the sight that greeted you was not what you were expecting.

Loki sat in Louie’s large leather office chair and greeted you with a wolfish grin. He waves you forward with a flick of his fingers.

“Do come in and shut the door. We have business to discuss.”

Something akin to morbid curiosity urges you to silently close the door behind you and move to sit in the chair opposite him. For a moment there is nothing but silence as Loki looks you over with those keen eyes. You curl your fingers nervously into your dress, bunching the silky material.

“I admit I was terribly curious about the woman who rejected me. As you can imagine, no, is not a word I hear often.” He explains smugly, leaning his head against his hand. You choose to remain silent and listen, unsure of where this was all leading.

“And so I started to ask around about you. And it seems you my dear, set the tongues wagging as of late. A fatally sick husband with a small child? How ever do you afford all of those doctor visits?”

“We manage.” you grumble under your breath. The air around you has suddenly gotten much hotter and you feel your skin begin to tingle with unease.

“Not well enough, I fear…” He trails off ominously and leans forward to steeple his fingers together. “Which is why I have a proposition for you.”

With that, he straightens up to reach into his jacket to pull out a thick wad of cash, held together by a clip. You blink, taking it all in. 

“I don’t…I don’t understand…” Your voice tremors as you stare at the absurdly large bundle of money in Loki’s hand. His lips curl dangerously as he gracefully places the bills back into the lining of his suit jacket.

“It’s really quite simple. You service me, in any way I desire and in return, I give you the money to save your husband. Que pro quo, my dear.”

You shake your head in disbelief and stand, quickly moving to take a step back. Your kitten heels catch the edge of the rug and your stance wobbles. “You’re _bleeding_ me? I…I can’t. This is wrong. I’m a married woman. I can’t betray my husband.”

“Oh I’m sure you are. I’m also sure you would make for an enticing widow as well. It matters not to me. But wouldn’t you rather be the dutiful wife and help your husband? Wouldn’t you do _anything_ to save him?”

“I…”

Your gaze drifts back to his face. His handsome features mask something truly insidious lurking inside. He sneers up at you. 

“How much is his life _really_ worth to you?”

A heavy weight drops into your stomach and you falter. You slowly squeeze your eyes shut in surrender. “What do I have to do?” You inquire softly, fearing the answer.

Loki leans back in the chair and looks you over with satisfactory glee. He traces his fingertips across his lips as he ponders what obscene favor to ask of you. You realize, he must love holding long silences to elicit nervousness in his victims. It was certainly working on you.

“Remove your panties and nothing else. Then come and stand before me.”

You practically feel you throat close up as you turn away from him and slowly shimmer your unmentionables down your legs and around your ankles. Leaving them discarded on the floor, you carefully step out of them and smooth your dress back down. You let out a slow exhale before you turn around and walk to stand in front of Loki. His legs are now splayed wide open as you stand between his thighs. He leans in and trails on hand languidly up the outside of your leg, raising your dress up with it as he touches your bare skin.

_You can do this. For **him**. Do this for **him**._

“Good girl. Now sit on the desk and spread your legs nice and wide for me. Show me how your husband _used_ to touch you.”

“ _Don’t._ …don’t bring him into this please.” You plead bitterly as you move to sit back on your boss’s desk. Loki chuckles derisively as he leans his head against his hand.

“Are you giving _me_ orders now?”

“No…” you trail off glumly as you slowly part your legs, surrendering to your fate. Loki’s ravenous eyes drinking you all in.

“Good. Now touch yourself.”

**********************************************************************************************************************************

It took a few swigs of whiskey and a mouthful of Listerine to finally get the taste of him out of your mouth. Your knees were sore and scuffed from Louie’s hard floor. Your scalp still stung from where Loki tightly gripped your hair. He kept your panties, tucking them into his pocket with a dark promise that you would meet again for another _exchange_ very soon.

 _Not too many more,_ you assure yourself as you prepare Richard’s next meal.

You smile warmly at Johnny, babbling in his high chair, as you squeeze a couple of drops of clear liquid into Richard’s soup. They quickly disappeared into the broth and you stir the contents with a spoon. 

The first time he hit you was only two weeks after your wedding. All because you forgot to hang his socks out to dry. The sweet, attentive, charming man you fell in love with was gone, replaced by this cold, calculating monster. He wanted nothing more than a quiet pretty object on his arm. A trophy to show off to his work buddies for the added bit of vindication. Richard was always careful to never leave marks on your face or neck. The rest of your body however was not so lucky. The few friends he allowed you to keep, were always envious of the beautiful jewelry your doting husband bought you. Only you knew the exact reason for such ridiculous purchases. You were terrified and eventually refused to even meet his eye. He had almost beaten you down into nothing. But then something happened. You got pregnant. And from the beginning you loved that baby more than anything. No matter how bad things could get, you could look at Johnny’s cherub face and _know_ there were better things out there. That things _could_ be better. For both of you.

You knew deep down that it was only a matter of time until Richard raised a hand to Johnny. And you’d be damned if you ever let that happen. And so a plan had to be formed. A way out for both of you. 

A few drops of arsenic here and there in Richard’s food or drink. It’s odorless and tasteless so he was never none the wiser. The symptoms that emerged resembled pneumonia and so doctors were called when they worsened. Richard is far too weak to hurt you now. But it’s not enough. He needs to be _gone_.

Loki was a surprise but a welcome one. He believed you to be the modest and faithful wife because that’s what you wanted him to believe. Years of being terrorized by your husband had turned you into quite the little actress. After all, you always had to mask your pain. Put on a pretty, demure smile and pretend like everything was alright. Hiding behind a mask of demure happiness only helped hide your true intentions. In a way, Richard had turned you into a monster. Just another monster in this damned world.

Loki believes he owns you now. That you are his to use to his content until he grows bored of you and discards you like garbage. But you are using _him_. He has given you a substantial sum of money but you know it wasn’t quite enough for you and Johnny to start a new life. Far from anyone who would hurt you. But it _should_ be enough to fool anyone into believing you did everything you could to save your poor husband. 

You tilt your head in mock concern when you hear Richard bellow your name from down the hall, followed by a cacophony of violent wet coughing.

You smirk as you carefully place the bowl and bread on the tray. Tonight should be the final dose. Then you would make yourself pretty and go to your new benefactor as the broken widow. After this, you will never let another man use and abuse you. Never again.

All you needed was a little more money and you would both be free.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Synopsis: Reader is married with a young son and working as a waitress at a popular nightclub in the 1930′s. Her husband is fatally ill and his new treatments are swiftly draining their meager savings. Desperate, she struggles to make ends meet until she catches the eye of a notorious crime boss’s son. Loki Laufeyson is dangerous, powerful and very wealthy and isn’t used to being told no. He offers her a way out of her money troubles. But how far is she willing to go to save her husband?
> 
> Part 2: Richard is dying and Loki demands more. And Reader is caught in the middle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: This my FIRST multi chapter story I’ve ever posted on here!! Thank you for your warm comments and kudos. Feedback is always appreciated. Thanks so much for reading :D

You walk down the hall carrying the tray of poisoned broth. Even riddled with sickness, Richard’s commanding voice still sends a subtle tremor down your spine. You stop outside the bedroom door and let out a slow exhale. Gathering your wits as you slouch your shoulders and slip on a mask of submissive concern. Slowly you open the door.

“Richard, dear? I brought you some chicken noodle soup with homemade bread. Just like your mother used to make.” Carefully, you move to set the tray across his lap as your husband shakily pushes himself to sit up. You sit down on the bed by his feet and you have to hold back a smile. He looks dreadful. The once handsome proud man with his square jawline, bright blue eyes and thick black hair has been reduced to this. His skin is considerably paler and covered with a sticky sheen of sweat, his once piercing eyes have lost their luster and his face is sallow and worn.

“It’s about time. I ran out of water _hours_ ago. My throat is killing me,” he grumbles under his breath before letting out a string of wet wheezing coughs. You feel your cheek twitch.

“I’m sorry Richard, but I was at work. I’ll get Mabel to check in on you more often next time.”

He waves you away with a dismissive hand and you’re taken aback at how much he resembles the Richard you used to know with such a simple gesture.

“Never mind that. Is this it?” He complains, gesturing to the tray in front of him with disgust. “I want steak.”

“I know, but the doctor says you need to keep up with your fluids. I’m worried you wont be able keep anything heavier down.”

His hands quickly ball into fists and you can’t help but flinch. Even on his death bed, Richard still manages to rattle you.

“To hell what the doctor says! I’m still the man of the house and I want a goddamn steak!”

You wince and quickly stand. The sooner you get out of this room, the better.

“O-okay dear, I’ll make you a steak, but please try to eat the soup first. I don’t want you to get dehydrated. The doctor says that would only make your condition worse.”

Richard gives you a look that makes your blood run cold and for a brief moment, you see him standing over you again as you curl up on the floor with your hands protectively over your face. But then it’s gone and he picks the spoon up with an air of disdain.

“ _Fine_. I’ll eat the damn soup. But I still expect my steak in an hour.”

You nod nervously before turning to scurry out of the room.

“Oh and bring Johnny in here. I want to see him.”

You pause and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You feel the blood pool into your fingers and you squeeze your eyes shut in dread.

“I’m sorry Richard, but the doctor says Johnny shouldn’t be around you right now-”

You barely get the words out before a glass shatters against the wall in an explosion of razor shards. You yelp and cover your head instinctively and you feel a sharp pain rip across your hand. You expect him to yell and scream at you and your legs threaten to buckle under you. “Bring him in here. Now.” It’s his quiet calm voice that always terrified you more. “And clean that up.” You nod frantically and scamper out of the room, shutting the door behind you. You lean back against the wall, clutching your heart to quell your thundering pulse. You notice a small gash on your hand. Drops of blood listlessly follow the path of your veins.

_Please Lord, please take him soon. I don’t know how much more I can take._

*******************************************************************************************************************************************************

Mabel hums appreciatively as she bites into another chocolate chip oat cookie. “Mmm, I might just have to steal this recipe from you. These are heavenly.” You smile, breaking off a piece to hand to an eager Johnny. Fresh from a bath, his wet curls are plastered to his forehead and cookie crumbs sprinkle across his rosy cheeks. “Thank you. My mother got it off the back of a cereal box years ago. Except she always adds extra chocolate chips and a tablespoon of cinnamon.”

“Well my Walter would have just adored you. I could barely poach an egg, much less cook all the time. And it showed. My poor husband was as thin as a beanpole.” She lets out a little laugh, carefully brushing crumbs into her napkin.

There’s a brief pause before you pluck up the courage to ask. “Do you still…miss him?”

“Oh everyday, dear. It never really goes away. You just…keep moving. We wanted so many more kids and…it feels like we barely started our lives together. But that was the life of being married to a fire knocker. You were always expecting to get that phone call.” She pauses briefly to gather her thoughts and you could see a touch of sadness in her eyes. “We didn’t have much but we had each other. He could always make me laugh and he was such a terrible singer. We were just _dizzy_ about each other.”

You offer her a reassuring smile as you place your hand over hers. “I’m sure I would have liked him too. And at least you have Harvey and the kids.” Mabel lifts her head and gives you a look that you can’t quite place. “And you have Johnny.”

There’s an awkward silence that fills the kitchen before Mabel looks down and sees the wound on your hand. “Oh my word, dear what happened?”

You quickly withdraw your hand, inwardly scolding yourself for forgetting to dress it before she came over. “Oh it’s nothing. I was clumsy and dropped a glass in the sink earlier.”

“It looks pretty bad. I can run over and get my kit to stitch that up for you.” Mabel affirms reaching out to look at your hand again. Thinking quickly, you opt to divert her attention. “You can do stitches?”

She grins proudly and pushes a stray gray hair behind her ear. “We didn’t have a pot to piss in, much less money for doctors. Walter would constantly come home with burns and nasty scrapes. I had to learn how to patch him up and send him into work the next day. I may be old but my hands are still as steady as ever.” To demonstrate, she holds both hands in front of her where they remain still.

“Very impressive. But you needn’t worry, it’s nothing really. I’m sorry I alarmed you.” You insist, standing up to wipe Johnny’s mouth. Before Mabel can say anymore on the subject, you change it again. “How is Harvey and the family?”

You see Mabel’s expression brighten and you inwardly sigh in relief. “Oh they’re fine dear, thanks for asking! Fortunately, Harvey’s practice didn’t go under after the crash. People are starving, but apparently they still need clean teeth. And Edith actually got a job at a nice dress shop over on Mulberry St. I haven’t been yet, but I hear they have such lovely things.”

You nod politely, appreciating the idle chatter. “And the kids? Is Henry still working at the factory? Last week, you mentioned Louis had taken an interest in dentistry like his father. Has Harvey been showing him the ropes?”

Mabel nods with enthusiasm. She always lights up when she’s talking about them. For a brief moment, you feel a sharp stab of jealousy. _Did your parents even miss you? Do they regret never meeting their own grandson?_

“Yes, Henry’s still working hard and stubborn as a mule like his father. And Louis told Edith he wants to join the circus now. Can you just imagine?”

You shake your head genially as you pick Johnny up out of his seat to place him in your lap. He eagerly reaches for the plate of cookies on the table, but you push them away. “I can. And I’m sure next week, he’ll say he wants to be a vet.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it. That boy’s head runs a mile a minute. Who knows what he’ll land on next. Oh! Did I tell you Lucy just turned five?”

“I _knew_ she had a birthday coming up. But five, really?”

“Oh yes. Spoiled rotten, that girl. But what can you expect when she’s the only one and the youngest. I actually made her quite the sweet yellow number. So many frills and ribbons. I jabbed my fingers with the pin, but it was worth it. She looked like a little princess.”

You offer her a genuine smile as you adjust your hold on Johnny and tickle his sides. He giggles as he wriggles in your arms. After seeing Richard, he always goes quiet and somber and it just breaks your heart every time. Luckily, sweets, plenty of kisses and a visit from Mabel always seem to cheer him up.

“I bet she did. I love your work. Actually, if you have the time, I was wanting to see if you could possibly make Johnny something for his second birthday. It’s in about two months and I would pay of course.”

Mabel scoffs with a toss of her head. “Now you’re just bumping gums. I won’t charge you a thing and I don’t want to hear another word on the matter. I would be happy to make him a handsome little outfit. Are you doing anything special?” You smile as you lean down to kiss the top of his head. “I want to take him to the beach. He’s never been. Maybe have a nice picnic. Nothing big. Not a clam bake.”

Mabel’s blue eyes light up and she claps her hands together ecstatically. “Oh perfect! I’ll make him a little sailor outfit then. Maybe with a little hat that’ll go with his precious curls.”

“Richard actually wants me to cut his hair. He says it’s getting way too long and he doesn’t want anyone mistaking Johnny for a girl.” you admit as you run your fingers across Johnny’s scalp. He begins to squirm restlessly in your lap and you begin to bounce him on your knees.

Mabel shakes her head with a mock horrified expression on her face. “Don’t you dare cut that baby’s hair. He’s as cute as a bug’s ear.”

You laugh softly. “Okay Mabel I won’t. But…” You allow your eyes to drift down the hall. “I don’t know what’s going to happen before then. If Richard doesn’t get better…” As if on cue, a hoarse coughing fit sounds through the closed door. Your eyes shift to the barely touched steak still sitting on the counter. As you predicted, he couldn’t stomach it. The soup bowl, however, was empty when you returned with the steak.

Mabel sighs and leans in to playfully tickle Johnny’s foot. “I’m afraid it’s a trip for biscuits to worry about the inevitable. But what we can do is make sure Johnny has a nice birthday regardless. No matter what happens, we’re going to take him to the beach for his birthday.”

You squeeze Johnny a little tighter, earning a soft whine as you nod in agreement. “Okay Mabel.” She nods, satisfied before thrusting her hand out to you. “Now slip me a five. All good deals must be sealed with a handshake.” You grasp her hand, grateful for the brief yet warm reprieve from your life.

“Deal?”

“Deal.”

************************************************************************************************************************************************

“I’m a little worried about Johnny,” You admit as you pat some blush on the apples of your cheeks.

Next to you, Ruby cocks her head and gives you a curious look as she clips on her flashy earrings. “How come?”

You sigh worriedly as you close your compact. Outside, the band is starting to warm up as the first few stragglers of the night start filtering in. “He doesn’t talk. He’s almost two and he hasn’t spoken a single word. He mostly mumbles and points to things.”

“Oh I wouldn’t worry about that, honey. All babies hit milestones differently.”

“How old was Mattie when she started talking?” You ask, carefully pinning your hair into place. Ruby pauses as she thinks for a moment, tapping her chin with a gloved hand. “I think she was a little over a year, actually. I wouldn’t worry though. Johnny will be just fine. You’ve got enough on your shoulders right now without thinking about when he’ll talk."

_You have no idea_ , you think ruefully as you stand to adjust your stockings. You’re unsure if Loki would be making an appearance tonight , but you wanted to be mentally prepared to face him and his demands.

“What happened there?”

You reach down to brush a thumb over the gash on your hand. It stopped bleeding hours ago and was finally able to scab over. “Just dropped a glass. Nothing to worry about.” You reassure her. Next time, you would simply buy a nice pair of gloves. _Just like old times._

You feel Ruby’s calculating stare as she looks you over from head to toe.

“You look a little tired, honey. Are you getting enough sleep?” Ruby questions your reflection as she styles her hair in the dressing room mirror. You shrug your shoulder with apathy.

“I’m okay. Mabel let me borrow an old cot from her apartment and I just set it up by Johnny’s crib since Richard’s gotten worse. I think I’ve spoiled him though because he only wants to sleep in bed with me now. It’s just hard to find the time to sleep. By the time my shift ends, Richard is awake and needs to be taken care of.”

_And the sooner he dies, the better._

“I’m so sorry. And the doctor is coming in three days to give him his new medicine, right?”

“Yes. I’m trying to be strong for him and Johnny but it’s…so hard to see him like that.” you admit quietly. You bend over the vanity to apply your bright red lipstick. Loki was rather fond of it last time, seeing it smeared over his-

“Well enough of that sad talk. How about we see if Thomas can spare us a little giggle juice. I know these pipes could certainly use a pick me up before I go on.” Ruby exclaims, straightening up and looping an arm through yours. You feel a warm grin touch your lips as you carefully pull a loose thread off of her bright red evening gown.

“You think your biggest fan will ask for another honey cooler?”

Ruby rolls her made up eyes as she playfully slaps your shoulder. “He can keep dreaming! I might be inclined again if he wasn’t such a cement mixer. Last time he was so hopeless, even his clapping was off tempo.”

The pair of you giggle as you leave the dressing room.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************************

The loud boisterous conversations always slip into quiet titters whenever Ruby sings. Her pure sultry tones undulate and curve throughout the club with sensual ease. Normally, she’s quite plain. No blister of course, just not a woman you would look at twice. But when she’s up on stage, she becomes a captivating canary. Beautiful and glamorous. You love to listen to her sing about as much as her brash friendship.

The honeyed whiskey lingers on your tongue as you lean against the bar. All of your tables have been topped off and all of the patrons are enamored with Ruby. Louie has been smart and has avoided you all night. You didn’t know if you could even face him. Who knows how much he is aware of this arrangement, but you’d wager a guess he knows quite a lot.

You feel his eyes on you before you even see him. A subtle prickle up the back of your neck like when prey knows it’s being hunted.

Thomas slides a Mac Daddy towards you. You look down at it with indifference.

“I didn’t order that.”

“I know. Laufeyson ordered it for you. Seems he’s quite taken with you.”

You press your lips together. “Or something.”

Loki didn’t just want a gilly. There were plenty walking around if that’s what he desired. No, Loki wanted a challenge of sorts. And you would give it to him as long as he kept providing his end of the deal.

Thomas reaches up and touches your shoulder. “Doll, they’re looking right at you.”

You don’t turn around to look, merely raise a brow. “They?”

“He’s got his goons with him tonight. Both plenty rugged with roscoes in their jackets.”

“Two of them?”

“Yeah, I think Steve and James.”

“Wonderful.” You comment, unimpressed, and make no move to grab the drink. If he brought his muscle along, he means business tonight. Business with _who_ exactly, remains to be seen.

“C’mon kitten, at least thank the man. It would be a terrible brodie to piss him off.” Thomas pleads as he pours ingredients into a mixer with nervous eyes. You sigh as Ruby’s song ends and the club erupts in applause. You finally turn to face your new benefactor, sitting in his usual booth, as you raise your glass. Offering him a small smile, you take a large gulp then immediately turn your back on him once again to join in on the applause. You vaguely wonder if he would come to you himself or send one of his Brunos to collect you.

It doesn’t take long for you to find out.

“You know, normally when a gentleman buys a lady a drink, she comes over to give him a _proper_ thank you.” A familiar accented voice croons in your ear.

You tilt your head coyly towards the man looming behind you. “A _true_ gentleman buys a lady a drink and expects nothing in return,” You remark cheekily, keeping your focus forward. He chuckles darkly and you feel his fingers graze your waist. He stands so close to you that you can feel his body heat against your back.

His lips brush against your ear. “We both know you’re no lady.”

“And you’re no gentleman.” You finish flippantly as his hand drifts down to your hip. Quickly, you step away and face the bar, still not looking him in the eye. In your peripheral vision, you see Thomas watching you both with wary eyes. Loki slithers closer to you and leans casually against the bar.

“Not _here_ ,” You hiss under your breath. You tap your fingers on the surface to mask the quelling panic inside you.

“Why? You don’t want the others to find out about our little deal?” He purrs with a dangerous smile. You grab your Mac Daddy and take a generous sip, shooting daggers at him over the rim. He tilts his head as he regards your glare with irreverent satisfaction. He knows he’s already won.

Loki straightens up, adjusting his collar and you feel his fingers touch your wrist.

“Come. Let’s go for a drive.”

“I can’t just _leave_. I have to work.”

“You’ve been excused. Lou has other dames to fill in for you. Unless you’d _rather_ go up to his office again? All these people…I’m sure no one would notice _that_.” Your gaze quickly slides to your immediate surroundings. With the exception of Thomas, no one else seems to be paying you any attention. They’re too wrapped up in their own unburdened lives and drunken ardor. You bite your lip hesitantly as you silently weigh your options.

“Will we be gone long?”

Loki’s grin widens. “As long as we need.”

You square your shoulders and meet his expectant gaze. “You have the money?”

“Always.”

“Fine. Lead the way.”

Thomas, who witnessed the entire interaction looks at you with concern as he leans in to collect your empty glass. You mouth “I’m Okay” as you turn to follow Loki and his thugs out of the club. The first few notes of Ruby’s husky angelic voice following you out into the crisp night air.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************

A few minutes later, you and Loki sit in the back of his sleek Studebaker President while Steve and James sit up front. You watch as several brightly lit clip joints and establishments pass you by, remaining silent as the dread unfurling in your stomach builds and builds. You’re so focused on trying to remember where exactly you are, that you don’t feel Loki’s hand creeping up your thigh.

When you’re aware of the fabric of your dress being pushed up, you gently shove his hand away and give him a hard stare. He merely chuckles and withdraws his hand. You fix your skirt and silently continue to stare out the window.

Steve suddenly turns the wheel to the right and you find yourself going down a dark alley, sandwiched between two tall buildings. Your heartbeat begins to race when you see nothing illuminated by the headlights in front of you except more alley. After several seconds, the car slows to a crawl before coming to a complete stop. You lick your lips nervously as Steve turns the car off and everything is enveloped in darkness. Only the sparse lighting from the surrounding buildings shed any sort of light. Steve and James turn to look at you and you want to crumble under the stares of the three men.

_This was a mistake_

“Wh-what are we doing here?” You ask meekly, unable to keep the fear from your voice. Loki trails his fingers down your bare arm and your hands instinctively ball into fists in your lap.

“Have you ever fucked in a Studebaker? It’s really quite… _something_ ,” Loki muses as he leans in to brush your hair behind your ear.

“I…I thought we were going to a hotel,” You admit, nervously playing with the hem of your dress.

“Oh no. I think this is _much_ better.” Loki trails his fingers down your neck and across your collar bone. You feel a shiver go down your spine and your fingernails bite into the skin of your palms. You look up, finally summoning the courage to acknowledge the other two men in the car. In the dim lighting, you can make out Steve and James watching the pair of you with quiet intensity. Their lips curled into subtle smirks.

“Why are _they_ here?”

They exchange a knowing look as Loki leans in to whisper in your ear. “Would you like to earn some more money tonight?” His hand slowly pushes your dress up and you feel a heavy weight on your chest. “I’ll throw in a few more Lincolns if you…offer your services to them as well. Treat them _real_ nice for me.”

“ _What?_ ”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, doll. Loki told us all about your… _troubles_.” James assures as he reaches out to brush your cheek with his knuckles. You flinch away from his hand and you feel a sob catch in your throat.

“What kind of men would we be if we didn’t offer to help you too?” Steve adds in a condescending tone. His bright blue eyes trail over you unabashedly.

“ _No_! No I won’t do that!” You swat Loki’s hand away angrily. “This wasn’t part of the deal!” You immediately shift to open the door but to your utter horror, it’s locked. Panicked, you yank desperately on the handle and begin banging on the window.

To your surprise and disgust, Loki starts laughing followed shortly by Steve and James. His green eyes alight with callous mischief. “Alright boys, that’s enough. You know the drill. Go stand watch for any coppers or flatfoots. When I’m through here, we’ll run the shipment to Fury’s.”

You are left confused and outraged as Steve and James exit the Studebaker and saunter off the way you came. You can still hear their crude snickering as they disappear into the darkness.

You whip around to face Loki who has already removed his coat and is unbuttoning his shirt.

“What the hell was _that_ about?” You snarl. 

He shrugs a single shoulder. “I was simply curious how far you were willing to go for your husband. Not far enough evidently.” He taunts with a wink.

He shifts closer, shirt opened revealing his bare torso. In the sparse lighting, his sharp features look monstrous as he looms over you. Shaking your head with feeble resistance, you press your back against the door. Your whole body is trembling and you're struggling to hold back the tears.

“You didn’t need to do that. That was… _cruel_.”

His lips curl with salacious intent as his hand reaches up to grip your jaw. “There’s no need to blow your wig, kitten. You’re _mine_ now. I’ve bought and paid for you. I would never let them touch you.”

And as his lips crash into yours and his hand thrusts between your legs, you wonder if you’ve simply traded one monster for a demon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Three: The calm before the storm. Reader gives Richard his final dose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: I just wanted to thank everyone for reading and reviewing my first multi chapter fic. Your feedback really means a lot to me and I hope to keep delivering! Thanks again :)

Loki was much rougher with you this time. Your thighs were still tender from when he pushed your legs up to your chest. You still smell like him. His cologne and musk clinging desperately to your used body. When he was done, Loki calmly lit a snipe and coolly slid a thick wad of money down the front of your dress. Thankfully, he let you keep your underlings this time. After Loki was finished with you, you insisted on being dropped back off at Louie’s. You did not want him to know where you lived. It would only bring nothing but trouble. The rest of your shift flew by in a haze. You could feel several of your coworker’s eyes on you. Wondering why you would possibly leave with Laufeyson and his trigger men. Curious, yet no one had to courage to outright ask. You just played it off as normally as you could until it was time for you to leave. Inwardly, you were in absolute turmoil. The thick wad of cash tucked into your dress feeling more burdensome by the second.

In your bathroom, you stare in the mirror as you splash cold water on your face. You hardly recognize the woman staring back. With your features pinched together in silent judgment, you look several years older. You feel disgusted with yourself. You look down at your hands.The same malicious hands you pleasure Loki with, are the same ones that drips arsenic into Richard’s throat.

You’re suddenly overwhelmed with the crushing weight of your decisions on your shoulders and your fingers grasp the sink tightly. You squeeze your eyes shut as a wave of panic and nausea roll over you. You grit your teeth as the tightness in your chest increases. You struggle to control your breathing.

_You are a whore and a murderer. But you can’t quit now. Not after everything_. _It will all be over in a few days and then you could move on_. _Start your new life with your boy._

Your eyes fly open. You needed to see him. You need to remind yourself who you’re doing this for.

You let out a shaky breath and pull yourself away from the sink and your judgmental reflection. You pass Richard’s door, comforted by his pitiful wheezing snores. One less thing to worry about tonight.

Johnny lay sleeping in his crib, unbothered and untouched by the world. His chubby fingers clutching onto his favorite stuffed rabbit. You reach down and softly brush his hair out of his face as silent tears slide down your cheeks. Your heart clenches tightly with unwavering love and guilt.

_It will be worth it. To give him a good life, it’ll all be worth it._

*******************************************************************************************

You yawn as you stand at the kitchen counter, waiting for the toast to pop up. The rays from the sun trickle in through your kitchen window, bathing the apartment in rich golden light. You slide Richard’s glass of orange juice towards you as you lift the small clear bottle from your apron. Just a few more drops. Maybe one or two more for good measure.

It had to be today. You had prolonged the inevitable long enough. Today was the day Richard would die.

You stir the mixture together, just as the toast pops up. You butter them, then add his favorite blackberry jam. A couple of slices of bacon sit on the side. You would rather avoid another steak incident if you could.

You take a deep breath and gather yourself as you pick up the plate and glass. Quietly walking down the hall so you don’t wake Johnny, you knock softly on the door.

No reply.

You turn the doorknob slowly and peak your head in. “Richard? I brought you some breakfast. I wasn’t sure how hungry you’d-” You halt, taken aback at the sight of your husband. It had barely been ten hours since you looked in on him and yet here he was on death’s door. Richard slowly turns his head to look at you and his lips twitch with a faint smile you haven’t seen in months.

“Do I...look as awful as I feel?” He sputters out in a playful tone. You allow a fleeting expression of sadness to pass your features before crossing to stand by his bed.

“No dear, you still look as handsome ever. Do you...feel like eating today? Can you sit up for me?”

Richard winces as he attempts to sit up and you have to help pull him up the rest of the way. You push the glass of orange juice towards him.

“Here. I imagine your throat is sore from all that coughing. Freshly squeezed, just how you like it.”

Richard coughs wetly before picking up the glass, tired eyes looking over his small breakfast. Much to your surprise, his expression seems...grateful. His eyes meet yours as you move to sit on the bed next to him, placing a hand on his knee in a deceivingly caring gesture.

“You’re a good woman.” He rasps calmly as he takes a long pull of orange juice. Unwillingly, you feel a small tug on your heart. How long had you waited to hear any words of kindness from the man you married? For any sort of genuine warmth from the man you fell in love with? For years he controlled and terrified you. Beat you until there was hardly anything left. It was far too late now.

_So why is there a pang in your heart now? Is it just guilt? Or is there some sick twisted part of you that still loves him?_

You offer a small smile and a reassuring pat on his knee before you rise from the bed.

“Well I’ll...just leave you to your breakfast-” you’re cut off when Richard quickly reaches out and grabs your hand. You flinch at the sudden movement.

“No wait. Please...stay.” Richard pleads in an unusually weak voice. You look down at him, unsure. He withdraws and you feel his fingers trace the scar on your hand. His eyes briefly shimmer with what you could only describe as guilt. “I mean...I would really like the company.”

You nod complacently, sitting back down on the bed. You watch silently as Richard takes another gulp of orange juice and nibbles on his toast. After a couple of minutes, Richard finally breaks the silence.

“Do you...remember where we first met?”

You were taken aback and you place your hands in your lap to avoid squeezing the sheets nervously.

“Of course I do. At the Feed Rack Stand. You were there showing off with your Pallies.”

“And you were there with your parents. You stuck out in your bright pink dress. You saw a kid drop his ice cream cone and you gave him yours. I knew right then I was dizzy for a dame.”

“Richard...” You trail off softly.

“And that Fourth of July picnic out at the lake? You brought that Buttermilk Creme Pie that everyone thought was just aces. Then we watched the sailboats pass by and that family with the young twins? That’s when we decided to try for a baby.”

You remembered. You were originally going to wear your pretty white sundress, but the bruises on your arms still hadn’t healed. So you had to wear a drab blue dress with longer sleeves. The evening fireworks terrified you with their sudden booming.

“And when I saw you holding Johnny for the first time...you never looked more beautiful...”

“Stop this...you’re going to get better. The doctor is coming in two days with the new treatment.” You lie through your teeth. You were going to hell there was no doubt about it. To tell a man he would heal when you’re actively pouring poison down his throat will surely earn you a seat on Satan’s lap. But you needed to say anything to get out of that room.

Richard lets out a strained laugh and shakes his head. “I just...I know I didn’t always treat you right. My father...he wasn’t a very good man and I...guess I take after him.”

You feel a stab of both rage and empathy flicker through you. Your stomach feels knotted and heavy with conflicting emotions. None of this makes it right. Nothing he says now will take away everything he’s done. So why is it affecting you so?

Instinctively, you feel your eyes well up. No this is ridiculous. He’s treated you with nothing but cruelty and coldness for years but now that he’s showing you just a _shred_ of decency, you were suddenly wracked with remorse?

You needed to leave. Now.

You slowly stand, struggling to keep your battling emotions from your face. Your eyes glance over the near empty glass of orange juice. You hated Richard with every fiber of your being. You wanted to cause him just a shred of the pain he’s caused you. But you didn’t want to watch him die. You couldn’t.

“I need to go tend to Johnny. He should be waking up any minute.”

“I want...him to remember me. Can you do that for me? If nothing else, Just make sure my son remembers me.”

Your throat suddenly feels dry and you swallow hard. _Johnny will never know you. I’ll make sure we both forget_.

You nod solemnly before turning to leave.

“Wait...please.”

You pause, looking down at the shell that used to be Richard. The face that had looked down at you with such animosity and scorn in the past, now just looked pathetic and frail.

“It wasn’t...all bad was it? Our life together?”

You take a deep breath and lean down to kiss his forehead. The stale smell of approaching death clings to him. You decide to answer truthfully. To offer him this small modicum of mercy before he dies by your hand.

“No, Richard. It wasn’t all bad.”

And then you turn away from him forever. Leaving him all alone to await Death.

**********************************************************************************

You gently sit Johnny down on the ground as you sit back on a bench. The city park is only two blocks from your apartment and not very much to look at. A couple of swing sets, a slide and a set of monkey bars. A big open field on the other side of the playground for ball games or free frolicking children. But Johnny always loves watching the other children and you had to get out of the apartment.

You try not to think about Richard wheezing his last breathe as you observe Johnny quietly playing with the few toys you brought for him. But by a cruel twist of fate, Johnny looks just like your soon to be late husband. But you will make sure he will turn out nothing like his father.

_Johnny will be better than Richard. Far better than you_.

Your thoughts are interrupted when a flustered mother sits beside you on the bench, wrestling with her own toddler. Her light blonde hair lays free and unfixed on her shoulders, her cheeks are flushed with exertion ,and you can make out a subtle roundness to her belly.

“My goodness Alice, calm down. Let Mama sit down before you try to jump out of my arms.”

The tiny girl continues squirming and flailing her limbs on her mother’s lap. “Down! Down!”

The woman turns to you with an exasperated sigh as she puts her daughter down on the ground next to Johnny. She then turns to you with a wide friendly grin as she fans herself.

“Whew, it’s as hot as the dickens out here!”

She holds her hand out and you can’t but notice the Southern twang in her voice. Hesitantly, you reach out and shake her hand.

“Hi there. I’m Lorraine and this little spitfire here, is Alice.”

You introduce yourself and gesture to Johnny whose shyly playing with the many pink ruffles on Alice’s dress.

“This is my son, Johnny.” You state. You didn’t feel much like socializing but it would be a welcome distraction at least. Lorraine leans over, peering down at Johnny.

“Well isn’t he just the cutest little thing. So well behaved too! Unlike mine.” She gushes, pointing to Alice, whose already digging her fingers deep into the dirt. Johnny watches her with pure fascination.

“Thank you. You’re daughter is very cute too,” You say truthfully. Alice and Johnny had to be close in age yet she is the mirror opposite. Talkative, outgoing, with long straight blonde hair and an impish smile. You assume she gets that from her mother.

For the next several minutes, the pair of you exchange pleasantries. You make sure to keep things purposefully vague on your side, but manage to keep her talking. Not that that was very difficult. Lorraine, it seems, could talk your ear off.

“Have you lived here long?” You ask, genuinely curious. She lets out a pleasant laugh as though you just told an amusing joke.

“Not at all. Moved here about two months ago all the way from Charlotte. My husband got a promotion and we had to relocate. Drove all the way here just for the car to up and quit on us. But, I suppose that’s what we get for driving an old Napier. And Norman, bless his heart, has to take the trolley to work. Can you imagine? But until we can afford a new one, we have to make due.”

You nod, watching Alice pulling Johnny’s hands into the dirt next to hers. Looks like he’ll need another bath tonight, you muse silently.

Lorraine adjusts her skirt before leaning in slightly. “Well hey, forgive me if I seem too forward, but I would just _love_ to get together again. Truth be told, I haven’t had much luck makin’ friends here. And hey, even our kids get along! Why don’t you give me your number and I’ll give ya a dil-ya-ble whenever we’re free?”

You pause and bite your lip, initially unsure how to respond. Lorraine seems perfectly lovely, but you don’t know if you need yet another person in your life right now. Your eyes drift over her wide doe eyes and down to her growing belly and relent.

You return her smile. “Sure. That’d be keen.”

The pair of you trade numbers and you stand to grab Johnny who toddled a few feet away with Alice. His toys lay forgotten by the bench. You bend down to pick him up when something catches your eye. A familiar face that makes your blood run cold.

Blonde hair. Steely blue eyes. It’s only for a split second, but you know you saw him. He is standing by the sidewalk outside of the park, with his hands tucked into his suit jacket. His mouth tilted in a troublesome smirk. His eyes focused on you.

What was he doing _here_ of all places?

“Steve?” you mutter quietly, your heart skipping a beat as you hug Johnny closer to you.

“Mm? You say something honey?” Lorraine questions, kneeling down to knock the dirt off of Alice’s dress.

You turn to look back where Steve was standing but he was gone. Melted into the passing crowd as though he were never there.

_Is it a coincidence? Did they have business nearby? Or was he sent to watch you?_

Whatever the reason, you didn’t want to linger and find out. You quickly gather all of Johnny’s toys and bid a quick goodbye to Lorraine.

“O-okay honey, I’ll be seeing you soon right?” There’s a subtle edge of desperate hope in her voice.

“Yes. Yes absolutely. I’ll give you a ring soon,” you assure with a strained smile. Maybe one day you would call her. But not anytime soon.

Without another word, you spin and practically run back to the apartment with a wriggling Johnny in your arms. Checking behind you every few steps to make sure you’re not followed.

*****************************************************************************************

When you walk back into the apartment, there is an unearthly stillness. The air feels thicker and there is a heavy silence. You quickly lay Johnny down in his crib with a bottle to help him nap before turning towards Richard’s door.

You had to see. You had to know.

You take a few shaky steps towards the door. A subtle tingling sensation travels down your limbs and you can hear your pounding heartbeat in your ears. You raise your hand to hesitantly knock on Richard’s door. There was nothing but silence. Your stomach drops and your fingers wrap around the doorknob tightly.

Maybe he’s sleeping. _But maybe he’s not._

Slowly you open the door and step in, freezing in the door frame. Even in the dim lamp light, you can make out the glassy unfocused look of his eyes. His plate knocked carelessly on the floor with cold half eaten toast on the rug. Glass empty and laying on it’s side. His mouth is open and you can see a thin trickle of drool trailing down the corner. He’s still. Very very still.

Gathering your wits, you move to stand at his bedside. Looking down at him like he’s done for too many years. Was this how he felt? This raw power of putting someone in their supposed place?

You reach down and touch him, quickly retracting when you feel his cold dead flesh.

For a moment, you just stand there silently. Observing every feature. Committing it to memory. Before you even realize what you’re doing, you raise your hand and it strikes Richard across the face. His head snaps to the side. You want to strike him again. Over and over again until his flesh is marred just as yours once was. But you force yourself to back away, hands twitching at your sides. You need to calm down. You turn and leave the room, closing the door swiftly behind you.

In his crib, Johnny reaches up to you with dirty hands. His curls unkempt and mashed against the side of his head. You smile and pick him up lightly bouncing him on your hip like you know he likes. He gives you a sleepy smile and you move to the rocking chair in the corner. Johnny curls up into you and you cradle him to your chest. You start singing an old tune that your mother used to sing to you. You hadn’t heard it in many years yet the words return to you effortlessly.

_Hush-a-bye, don’t you cry,_

_Go to sleepy little baby._

_When you wake, you’ll have cake,_

_And all the pretty little horses._

_Black and bay, dapple and grey,_

_Coach and six little horses,_

_Hush-a-bye, don’t you cry_

_Go to sleepy little baby._

_When you wake, you’ll have cake,_

_And all the pretty little horses._

_Way down yonder, down in the meadow,_

_There's a poor wee little lamby._

_The bees and the butterflies pickin' at its eyes,_

_The poor wee thing cried for her mammy._

_Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,_

_Go to sleepy little baby._

_When you wake, you'll have cake,_

_And all the pretty little horses._

Johnny sags against you and you know he’s fast asleep. You carefully lay him back down in his crib, tucking his arm around his rabbit. Closing the door behind you, you walk back to the kitchen and eye the telephone. You had a few phone calls to make. You take a deep breath and pick up the receiver.

******************************************************************************************

About thirty minutes later, you let Mabel into your apartment. The doctor is due within the hour to confirm Richard’s condition and deliver the death certificate, but you needed Mabel’s support more than anything.

She wastes no time, pulling you into a tight hug and petting your hair soothingly.

“It’s going to be alright,” she croons in your ear. You sink into her loving embrace. “Thank you. That means so much.”

Suddenly, she pulls away and looks back at the closed door warily. Before you could question her, she moves purposefully into your kitchen without a word. “Where is it?” Mabel asks, beginning to carefully look through your cabinets. You raise your brow. “Where’s what, Mabel?”

She pauses and looks at you. Her face uncharacteristically serious. “The arsenic you borrowed from me months ago. We need to get it out of your apartment, less they suspect something.”

You feel your blood pounding at your temples and you cross your arms nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mabel gives you a sad smile. “Dear, I’ve been in your apartment enough times to know you don’t have any rats. Well...not anymore.”

You shake your head and it feels as though ice flows through your veins. “Mabel, what are you saying?”

Mabel stands there for a moment and the silence is tense and suffocating. Then she shakes her head and places a hand on a nearby wall.

“These are nice apartments. Decent prices, it’s near the grocery store and the park is right down the street for the little ones. But the downside is the walls are very thin.” She gives you a knowing, melancholy smile. “You don’t have to pretend anymore. I heard...how he _really_ was.”

Your heart seizes as you choke out a sob. You feel your knees threaten to buckle under you as you lean against the counter top. Mabel takes careful steps towards you, her eyes glistening with fresh tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so _sorry_ I couldn’t help you then. Please...let me help you now.” Mabel says softly with her hand outstretched. You feel the tears slide down your cheeks as your fingers slip into your apron pocket and you hand over the small clear bottle to her. She lets you collapse into her arms as you both cry huddled on your kitchen floor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: Special thanks to everyone taking the time to read! Your feedback and enthusiasm is SO appreciated and I hope it continues to entertain :)

“Richard was always so _charming_.” Mabel muses ruefully, bringing her tea cup to her lips. “He would help me with my bags…even put my bookshelf together for me. And whenever I had you lot over for dinner, he seemed to _really_ care about you and Johnny. Even towards the end when he was sick and I would check in on him. He…never let me see that side.”

She looks up at you with sad eyes. “It seems he was always saving that for you.”

You nod, slowly stirring the small spoon in your tea absentmindedly. Johnny sat nearby on the kitchen floor, stacking colorful blocks and knocking them down. Giggling and clapping his hands at his childish destruction. Mercifully unaware of the absence of his father. “Richard was always good at that. Making people like him. Making _me_ out to be the unreasonable one when I had to miss engagements to stay home and heal. It’s like…I was the lightning rod for every bad thing in his life. Every time he was furious or even frustrated, he would take it out on me. Nothing I did was ever good enough. Nothing I did…made him happy.”

“ _Bastard_. Did he ever…” her blue eyes slide down to the toddler by her feet, “hurt Johnny?”

You shake your head. “No…but he would yell at him sometimes. Whenever Johnny was crying and I couldn’t soothe him. It seemed no matter what I did, Richard was just getting angrier and more volatile. I…never wanted Johnny to see his father for what he really was.”

“ _No_ child should have to grow up like that,” Mabel asserts, placing a comforting hand atop yours. “And no woman should have to endure that either.”

“When did you figure it out?”

“Admittedly, it took me awhile. I plum forgot you had even borrowed it from me. But then…he just kept getting sicker.And I remembered you never gave it back. On a whim, I checked the back of another bottle at the store one day. Some of the symptoms matched up.”

Mabel was quiet for a moment before taking another sip. “I battled with it for awhile. I actually considered going to the cops at one point. But then…I remember hearing him through the walls. How he _hurt_ you. How you would cry after he left. All the times I would blindly accept all of your excuses for the bruises and cuts.” Her gaze shifts to the healed cut on the back of your hand. She shakes her head forlornly. “And how I did nothing to help you.”

“Oh Mabel…just being here with me…your company…how you’ve helped me with Johnny. You have no idea how much all of that means to me. Has meant to me. And Richard? There wasn’t anything you could have done. He wouldn’t have stopped. Trust me.”

“Don’t try to make an old woman feel better, dear. I know I did you wrong.”

“No, I mean it. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Some days, just spending time with you…hearing you talk about your family…would be the only thing I could look forward to.”

“And what about your family? Are they…” Mabel trails off as she watches your face fall. You say nothing, tracing your finger around the rim of your cup.

“It’s just…you never talk about them much.”

“It’s just my parents. They’re still alive. But I haven’t spoken to them in two years. We…had a bad fight, the last time we went to visit.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry. So…they haven’t even _seen_ Johnny?”

You shake your head no, finally meeting her eye. Mabel sighs, twisting one of her many garish rings around her finger.

“Dear it’s been two years. Surely, enough time has passed to mend things. If my daughter was in trouble, I would want to be there for her. And I’m sure they’re _dying_ to meet their grandson.”

You feel a wave of sadness wash over you. “I don’t know Mabel…I said such horrible things to them. I don’t think they ever want to see me again.”

“Nonsense. They’re your parents. They should love you no matter what. Just talk to them. Promise me you’ll try to call them. Or at least write a letter. For me.”

You exhale, feeling a familiar tightening in your chest. “Ok Mabel. I’ll…try.”

Mabel nods, satisfied. “Atta girl.”

There is an uncomfortable silence that clings above you for a moment. Words that need to be said, but you don’t dare to utter first. Mabel looks and you and then Johnny before breaking the silence with a deep sigh.

“Maybe it’s guilt. Or maybe it’s because I truly care about you. Probably a little of both,” she admits. She picks up the bottle of arsenic and rolls it in her fingers. “While I don’t approve of your methods…I think deep down you did the right thing for you and your boy. A man like Richard…had no place in this world.”

“Mabel…I can’t ask you to do this for me. This was my decision.”

“And it’s _my_ decision to keep it a secret. What would happen to Johnny if you went away? No. You have nothing to worry about, dear. I’ll take this to my grave.”

“Mabel…”

“ _Hush_ , child. That’s my final word on the matter. Now pass the muffins.”

*****************************************************************************************

The following week passed by in a dizzying haze. The doctor came, examined the body and ruled Richard’s death of natural causes. Since you had evidence of Richard being regularly treated through your medical bills, there was no suspicion of foul play. And you certainly weren’t going to order an autopsy. The death certificate was issued and Richard’s body was carted away to the newly established funeral home a few blocks down. You had played your part well.

Mabel stayed and helped you arrange the funeral. A simple ceremony in your apartment followed by a small reception. Richard had been an only child and both his parents had passed away years before. The only people who showed up for him were old friends from work and equally charmed neighbors in the building. None of whom you’d seen stop by the apartment ,or even called to check in, once Richard started getting sick.

Fancy that.

It was such a long, dreary day full of empty hugs and hollow words. Everyone claimed to have a memorable story of Richard. Times he made everyone laugh or smile. Showcasing what a charming man and loyal friend he was and how utterly _tragic_ his death was. But none of them knew the real him. Not like you did. But you cried when you were supposed to and faintly smiled at the ridiculous memories of the ignorant and the blind. You even shared rare moments of happiness from early in your marriage. Before his voice sent fear coursing through your veins and his hands mottled your body with bruises. He didn’t deserve it. _Any of it_.

You stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. You made sure you were fixed up today, but not too much so. Appearing too perfect at a funeral always raises suspicions. A few tendrils of hair hang down loosely around your face and you decided to forego eyeliner for the day to make your eyes appear smaller and sadder. You had to not only act, but look the part of the grieving widow. Reaching down to the skin above your elbow, you squeeze hard. You wince at the pain, but know it’s a minor necessity. After several seconds, tears finally begin to well in your eyes and you release your arm. Pulling down the long black sleeve of your dress, you smooth down the lines and adjust your mother’s pearls at your neck.

She had given them to you on your wedding day. You’d always coveted them, ever since you were a little girl and you would steal them from her jewelry box and wear them with her heels with sloppily applied lipstick. You remember how your heart swelled when she laid them across your collar bones with gentle hands. You could still smell her jasmine perfume. Hear her humming the Wedding March as she fixed your hair.

You tried to call your parents days ago to give them the news, but you never received an answer. You shouldn’t have been surprised with the way you left things years ago.

You hear a soft knock on the bathroom door and Ruby’s voice float from the other side.

“You in there, honey? The guests are starting to leave.”

“I’m coming, Ruby.”

Ever the _selfless_ boss he was, Louie gave you the week off from work. At least _your_ friends had bothered to show up to comfort you in your time of need. You emerge and see Ruby with a concerned, pitying look. Dorothy and Thomas stand with her in the hall. You see they notice the tears in your eyes.

“Thank you for being here with me. It really means a lot to me,” You say with a faint, genuine smile.

“It’s no trouble at all honey and if you need _anything_ , just let us know.” Ruby wraps you in a warm, comforting hug and you squeeze her back. “We take care of our own.”

“Thanks, Ruby. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

“Louie says take all the time you need. Norma and Janet have been filling in for you so there’s no need to rush back. And he sends his best.” She leans in to give you a kiss on the cheek. “I’m _so_ sorry about Richard.”

You nod glumly as she takes her leave down the hall. Dorothy stands awkwardly near you, rubbing her arm. It’s clear she is uncomfortable and unsure what to say to you. She was never your favorite person and you knew she held some petty resentment for you. Jealousy perhaps, but that hardly matters to you. But she was lively and she certainly kept things interesting at work. You couldn’t fault her for that.

“Thank you for coming, Dorothy.” You decide to be the bigger woman and spare her the awkwardness of a drawn out forced interaction. “I’m sorry for your loss,” She utters softly before patting you on the shoulder and turning to leave your apartment.

Now it was just you and Thomas lingering in the hallway.

“I never knew Richard that well…but I know you loved him very much.” Thomas finally speaks and you have to look away so he doesn’t see you break character. The corners of your mouth threatening to rise in a very unsuitable smile.

“I did. I always will.” The words feel like molasses pouring passed your lips and you want to gag.

You start to walk away, but Thomas reaches out to gently grab your wrist. He looks around before he leans down to speak softly in your ear. His close proximity causes your heart to skip a beat.

“Laufeyson has been asking about you.”

“Oh.” You’re not sure what else to say. Truthfully, you hadn’t given Loki much thought in the past week. Merely filed him away in the recesses of your mind to deal with on another day. One sin at a time.

You feel Thomas’s thumb rub circles over your wrist and you press your lips together.

“Look, I don’t know what kind of thing you have going on with him, and it’s really none of my business but…you should really be careful. They’re dangerous men.”

“I know.”

“It’s just…I care about you and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I appreciate the concern, Thomas. But you don’t have to worry about me.” You place your hand atop his, but then pull away. You had lingered too long. Why were your cheeks burning?

“Just please…take care of yourself. And next time you need help…come to me. Not him.”

You lift your head to look at Thomas. Really look at him. His bright red hair and boyish features, despite being in his mid thirties. The subtle sprinkling of freckles across his nose and cheeks. His warm hazel eyes furrowed with concern. For you. It’s like you’re seeing him for the first time.

A part of you is deeply moved and flattered. And another demented part wonders how you could use this.

“Ok Thomas…I will.”

You give him one last smile before you turn away from him to say farewell to the rest of the mourners.

****************************************************************************************

An hour later, you had just finished packing away the rest of the food. It seems you and Johnny would be living off of fruit and finger sandwiches for the next few days. Mabel wanted to stay and help, but you insisted she go home. After being surrounded by people all day, you feel drained. You just wanted to be alone. You reach down to pick Johnny up, wanting nothing more than to peel off your funeral dress and slip into a hot bath. Hold your breath and sink below the surface. Dance along that perilous edge until your chest burns.

You hear a knock at the door and shift Johnny onto your hip. He plays with the pearls around your neck as you approach the door and open it.

“Mabel, did you forget somethi-”

You feel your heart drop suddenly and you gasp. Loki stands on the other side, flanked by Steve and James. Bearing a malicious smile as his eyes take in your horrified expression.

“Hello kitten. Did you miss me? I’ve certainly missed you.” With that, his cruel eyes slide lecherously over you and you feel a chill slide down your spine. Finally regaining your senses, you try to swing the door closed. But a quick, muscular arm shoves it back open and you stumble back as all three of them walk into your apartment. Instinctively, you hug Johnny closer to you as you create space away from the three intruders.

“How…What are you _doing_ here?”

“No need to fret, sweetheart. We’re just here to offer our condolences,” He replies with a wicked smile. You slide around the kitchen table, putting it between you and him.

“And you have. Thank you. You can leave now.” You say curtly, eyes flicking over to the other two men. Steve sneers at you, leaning against your now closed front door with his brawny arms crossed across his chest. James saunters around your living area, leaning in to look at your family pictures with obvious disdain.

“Well now, that doesn’t seem very _hospitable_ , does it boys? We’ve come all this way…and you don’t even offer us a drink for our troubles?” Loki muses with a subtle edge, trailing his hand along the table as he rounds it near you.

“Sorry. It’s been a _very_ long and trying day. I’m not…well to receive guests,” you offer, struggling to keep your voice from wavering. Johnny babbled, sucking on your mother’s pearls with amusement.

Loki ignores you, eyes shifting down to the toddler in your arms as though noticing him for the first time. “Ahhh this must be Johnny. So young and… _helpless_. Must be difficult to keep him safe in these dangerous times.” Something dark stirs in his eyes and you swallow hard.

“What would you like drink?”

“Whiskey if ya got it.”

“We don’t.”

Loki raises a brow in silent warning and you adjust your tone. “Richard…always preferred Scotch. But we don’t have any of that either.”

Loki nods, satisfied. “A man of refined taste. Course, in this heat, a glass of lemonade would also be keen. Pour some for Steve and James as well.”

You press your lips together, to avoid saying something you would regret and carefully put Johnny down in his highchair. The tension is thick in the air and you don’t want to take your eyes off him for even a second. Johnny _or_ your unwanted guests.

No one says a word as you pour each of the men a glass. The only sounds in the apartment were the clinking of the ice in the glasses. You jump when you turn around to see Loki standing right behind you. Your back presses against the kitchen counter. You hadn’t even heard him move closer.

He raises a hand and reaches behind you, fingertips grazing your bare neck as he grabs a glass over your shoulder. Green eyes never leaving yours, he takes a large sip of lemonade. You feel your pulse racing and your fingers grip the counter top behind you.

His tongue slowly drags across his bottom lip as he sets the glass back on the counter. “Delicious.” You nod, sliding to the side and stepping away from him to get some much needed space. Loki peers at you expectantly.

“Well? Be a good hostess. Bring my men their drinks.”

You feel your jaw clench as you swallow your pride and cross the room to give Steve and James their glasses. Neither bothering to move even an inch closer from their spots. James takes his glass with an impassive expression. Steve grins at you, his fingers brushing across yours purposefully as he takes the glass from you.

“Thanks, doll. I’m _parched_.”

You give him a curt nod, before returning to stand behind Johnny’s highchair. Thankfully, your son is too young to pick up on your fear and anxiety. Something you know your intruders are able to sense with terrifying clarity.

You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to speak when you hear another knock on the door.

“Expecting anyone else?” Loki inquires, leaning back against the counter with a smug smile.

You shake your head before crossing the room to answer the door. Mabel stands on the other side, her features etched with confusion and worry.

“Are you alright? I thought I heard-” Mabel starts to say before she notices the men standing behind you. Before you can protest, she pushes you aside and steps into your apartment.

“Yes, Mabel. Everything is alright. I just have…company.” You reply, shutting the door, struggling to maintain any sense of normalcy. She turns to you with keen eyes. No doubt taking in your unusually nervous demeanor.

“Who are these men?”

“We’re old _friends_ ,” Loki drawls from the kitchen, circling his glass in one hand with calculated hauteur.

Mabel narrows her eyes at him. “I wasn’t talking to _you_.”

“They worked with Richard. Just coming to pay their respects since they missed the funeral.” You quickly recover, moving to stand in front of Mabel before things can escalate.

“Yes…and unfortunately we have a bit of business to discuss concerning dear Richard’s money. It seems his poor widow took out a loan to pay for the funeral and we need to discuss payments.” Loki slithers and you feel your skin crawl. How effortlessly lies fall from his lips. Perhaps the pair of you have more in common than you originally thought.

“She just buried her him _today_. Can’t this wait?” Mabel responded with a slight edge in her voice. Her keen eyes regarding the three men warily.

“I’m afraid not.” Was Loki’s vague clipped response.

“I don’t see what could be so important that you have to hassle a widow still in her funeral garb. The body isn’t even cold yet,” Mabel argues and you flinch.

“No, I don’t suppose you would.” Loki’s voice drips with disdain. You see Mabel bristle next to you and you reach out to grab her wrist, squeezing it to stop her from biting back. You can practically hear the crude words on the edge of her tongue.

Loki finishes his lemonade and sets the glass in the sink, before turning back to address the pair of you.

“Now…Mabel was it? Why don’t you take little Johnny out for a bit. His mother and I still have much to discuss.”

“I don’t think so. I’ll leave when _she_ wants me to.” Mabel retorts.

“Please do what he says Mabel. It’s okay. I’ll be alright,” you agree softly, your eyes pleading. Mabel pauses as you can see the wheels turning in her head. You give a subtle shake of your head, begging her to comply. You didn’t know exactly what Loki had planned, but you had a sneaking suspicion. More importantly, you wanted Johnny and Mabel far away from it.

You pick up Johnny from his highchair and place a soft kiss on his forehead. You breathe in his sweet baby scent before handing him to Mabel.

“Just take him to the park. He’s tired so he’ll probably just sleep for you. It’s hot outside, so if you want to get him some ice cream that’s fine.” You instruct in a quiet voice, gently smoothing his hair down.

Mabel gives you a hard stare before straightening up with Johnny eagerly snuggling against her. “We’ll be back in an hour,” she announces, clearly directed more towards the men than you. Then they turn and leave. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“Charming woman.” Loki muses, taking a step towards you and gestures down the hall.

“Well? How about you give me a tour of your… _lovely_ home.”

You cross your arms, momentarily braver now that Johnny was safe and away. “I don’t suppose I can convince you gentlemen ,to take your leave and find entertainment _elsewhere_?”

Loki says nothing, merely shakes his head, corners of his eyes crinkled with content. You sigh and walk down the hall. To your revulsion, Loki presses far too closely behind you and you feel his hand touch your lower back. You were at least thankful that once again, Steve and James remained where they are. Some unspoken agreement that they don’t interfere, but linger nearby. You could deal with Loki on your own.

You don’t bother pretending to give him a tour and gesture him into your bedroom. You had barely entered the room since Richard’s body was carried off. The air is stale with death and you stiffen slightly at the sight of your bed. The very same that held Richard’s corpse. The corpse that _you_ put there. But you refuse to let Loki take you next to Johnny’s crib. Frankly, both options turn your stomach.

Closing the door behind you, you turn to face him, not bothering to hide your displeasure. “I don’t appreciate you and your _goons_ showing up here unannounced. On _today_ of all days. How did you even find out where I lived?”

“I’m a man with many connections, my dear. And I like to keep an eye on my… _investments_.”

You cross your arms, feeling your upper lip twitch with distaste. “Well you’ll no longer need to keep such _invasive_ tabs on me. The deal is off.”

Loki slowly raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your declaration. “Is that right?”

You nod curtly. “Yes. Richard is dead and I no longer need your… _help_.”

Loki takes a calm, calculated step towards you and suddenly the room feels much smaller. “And what if I say I’m _disinclined_ to end our little arrangement?”

Your brows furrow together and you feel your stomach drop. “What? Why?”

“It seems I’ve grown rather fond of our time together. And I’m simply not finished with you.”

“You never even _noticed_ me before last week. Surely you can pick another pretty dame to _focus_ your attentions on.”

“Is that what you think? I assure you, you’ve had my attentions _far_ longer than that. You see, I’ve watched you closely. You always smiled so pretty for the other men. But never spared me even a passing glance. Or showed me an ounce of warmth or affection.” He places a hand on the wall next to your head and shifts his weight forward, effectively caging you in. His lips touch your ear and you feel your breath hitch. “Do you have _any_ idea how **_infuriating_** that is?”

Your eyes widen at his confession and you feel your mouth dry. Fighting your flight instinct to move away, you raise your chin haughtily to meet his eye. “Well find another filly. I want nothing more to do with you _or_ your money. And I don’t want you or your men hovering around us anymore. Stay away from _me_ and stay away from my son.”

Fast as lightning, Loki reaches down and brandishes a switch blade and swiftly places it against your neck. You gasp, suddenly aware of the truly dangerous predicament you are in.

“Would you care to rethink your words?” He drawls, lightly tracing the blade across your cheek. Not enough to slice the skin but enough to feel its perilous presence. It drifts up close to your eye. So close, the blade touches your eye lashes and you turn your head.

“Please…don’t…”

“Then do what I say like a good girl. And no harm will come to you or your boy.”

You had underestimated his possession over you. You assumed you were just another one of his many conquests. Another one and done. You thought you could control him. Play the part he wanted and get enough of his money to move on. But you made one grave mistake. He didn’t simply want a challenge of getting someone unattainable like you assumed. No.

He _thrived_ on your fear. Of _knowing_ you didn’t want him. Not really.

You should have seen it. The evidence of his cruelty was revealed in slivers and you ignored them. And now you were paying the price. Perhaps this was your divine punishment for committing murder. Perhaps you deserved this.

_You_ did. But not Johnny.

“I’ll…do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt him.”

Loki chuckles darkly, taking a step back. Emerald eyes watch with sadistic glee as your shaky hands reach behind you to slowly unzip your black funeral dress.

“We’ll see.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: Special thanks to everyone taking the time to read! Your feedback and enthusiasm is SO appreciated and I really hope it continues to entertain. I’ve had quite a few interesting theories on where the story is going to go next. I guess we’ll find out ;)
> 
> Synopsis: Reader is married with a young son and working at a popular nightclub in the 1930′s. Her husband is terribly sick and his new treatments are swiftly draining their meager savings. Desperate, she struggles to make ends meet with her cocktail waitress job. Until she catches the eye of a dangerous, wealthy and powerful man named Loki Laufeyson and he offers her a way out of her money troubles. But how far is she willing to go to save her husband?
> 
> Warning: contains noncon, dubcon, sexual content, coercion, mentions of domestic abuse, violence, murder
> 
> Chapter 5: Loki’s visit. Mind the warnings. I mean it guys. Things get really grim here

You let out a slow exhale to quell your nerves, as you pull the zipper down and slip your arms out of the sleeves. You let the black satin slide down your body and pool around your feet, leaving you bare, in your underlings and stockings. Loki hums in appreciation and you feel your skin crawl as you bend over to carefully remove your heels.

“Leave them.”

You slowly straighten up, meeting his carnal gaze with a searing glare. “What do you want from me this time?”

He grins devilishly and sits down on the edge of the bed with his knees spread wide. His movement sends the thin layer of settled dust rising in the sun’s rays. Your eyes momentarily follow their graceful dance and you wish that you too, could float away. Loki straightens up and gestures expectantly to the floor between his spread thighs.

“I want you to come here.”

You quietly sigh and take a step forward, but he halts your movements with a chastising tut.

“ _No_. Get down on your knees. And crawl to me,” he commands with a depraved smile.

You grimace, fighting the urge to cross your arms over your scantily clad body. “Please...just do what you came here to do. You don’t have a lot of time.”

Loki raises an eyebrow, his handsome face otherwise impassive. “I don’t recall asking for your input. Nor do I care. Now crawl to me.”

You thickly swallow your pride and any indignation urging you to defy him, as you lower yourself to the floor. You grit your teeth, face and neck flushed with anger and humiliation, as you crawl towards your new tormentor. The wooden floorboards dig painfully into your knees with each agonizing motion forward.

“Look up at me. Let me see those pretty eyes.”

You bite the inside of your cheek hard as you raise your chin to meet his predatory stare. Loki smirks down at you, his very presence, an embodiment of menace and cruelty. His intense eyes are tracing every intimate detail of your face.

“ _There’s_ a good girl. Now kneel here.”

You silently comply, sitting up with your legs folded beneath you and your hands placed on your lap. A position of expected submission, but you remain silently indomitable.You subtly squeeze your thighs, your fingernails lightly biting into the soft flesh. For a moment, Loki stares down at you with perverse contemplation, no doubt, trying to decide which degrading act to ask of you. Then he leans down to grip your chin, his lean fingers digging harshly into your jaw. “I know I don’t have to tell you ,no biting. I would hate to have to cut out that _talented_ tongue of yours.”

You jerk your head away and he chuckles as he reaches down to unfasten his pants. Pulling his pale cock out, Loki regards you with a wolfish grin. He strokes his length a little and you lick you lips in quiet dread.

“Now take me in your mouth.”

Without hesitation, you lean in and part your lips, immediately taking in half of him. He groans as you roll your tongue over him and suck in your cheeks. You keep your eyes focused forward, trying desperately to shut everything else out. You’re so close to him, you can see the thin green pinstripes of his suit jacket and the tiny snakes on each individual silver button. You know what he likes. The faster you finish him, the faster he can be done with you. _This time_ , you realize with foreboding clarity. Your fingernails bite even harder into your thighs and you know there will be marks later.

After you gather enough saliva in your mouth, you begin to take more of him in, flattening your tongue to open your throat more. Carefully bobbing your head and resisting the urge to choke as his cock hits the back of your throat. You feel the burn of Loki’s voracious stare searing holes into you, but you refuse to meet his eye. He reaches up and pets your hair in an uncharacteristically gentle gesture.

“You really _are_ very good at this. I can’t decide if I prefer fucking your mouth or your tight little cunt.” He croons huskily before gripping the back of your head harshly and shoving you the rest of the way down. Your cry of protest is muffled as you quickly reach up to brace yourself against his thighs.

“Mmm that’s more like it,” Loki purrs as his fingers curl tightly into your hair. You feel several strands pulling painfully at your scalp.

You try to push against him, even dig your nails into his thighs but he only hisses with wicked relish at your attempts. You’re trapped in his iron grip. Squeezing your eyes shut, you force your mouth and throat to relax, practically going limp as he begins to mercilessly fuck your mouth. _Focus on your breathing. In and out through your nose_. Tears begin to well in your eyes as your jaw stiffens and your abused throat feels raw. Your pathetic whimpers vibrate around him. You don’t even hear the door opening behind you until a familiar voice cuts through the air.

“Hey boss, while you’re... _occupied_...you want me and James to go have a talk with Coulson? He still claims the numbers are right.” The back of your neck prickles as you feel Steve’s eyes trail over you.

Shame and degradation pervades your entire body as Loki, clearly unbothered with the intrusion and audience, continues to brazenly force you down onto him. He chuckles, feeling you squirm uncomfortably beneath him. “Yes _do_ take care of that. But don’t make a mess. Just give him a little _reminder_. After all, you don’t need _both_ hands to do the books.” Loki delegates, his velvety voice thick with immense satisfaction. You wearily surmise that this isn’t the first time, Steve or any of Loki’s other trigger men, have walked into something like this.

There is a pregnant pause as no doubt Steve lingers where he stands ,and Loki lifts his head to look past you. In the dense quiet, you can hear the wet sloppy sounds of Loki’s cock relentlessly fucking your throat and you know both men can as well. Tears fall freely down your cheeks and gobs of your saliva hit the tops of your legs. You wish the floor would just open beneath you and swallow you whole and end your pain. But not before you bite down hard and take a bloody piece with you.

“Rogers, unless you’d like a few _less_ fingers, I suggest you do what I say.” You can’t help but notice the possessive tone Loki’s voice suddenly emits.

“Yes _sir_.” This time, you hear the door close behind you and the retreating footsteps and you are left alone with Loki once again. He moans complacently as he begins to drive his hips into your mouth.

“Mmm you should have _seen_ Steve’s face. I believe he thoroughly enjoyed the view. I’d wager he wishes it were _his_ cock you were choking on.”

It’s not too long after that that Loki drives his hips into your face, shoving his length deep down your throat. You feel his warm seed spill into you and you have no choice but to swallow. Once he’s satisfied that you’ve taken every drop, he finally lets you go. You remain on your knees, coughing and sputtering, and stare up at him with resentment. Imagining every horrible, _painful_ way he could die.

He chuckles, reaching down to caress your cheek. He pulls down your swollen bottom lip with his thumb and your teeth are itching to bite him. “I _do_ admire that fire, kitten.” The smile fades and his green eyes narrow ominously. “But _don’t_ test me.”

You say nothing, shifting away from him as you wipe your mouth. You can still taste him. A disgusting cocktail of sweat and brackerish residue. The contents of your stomach, finger sandwiches and sliced fruit from Richard’s funeral, shift uncomfortably. You wish you could get sick all over him. Then maybe he would finally be disgusted with you and cast you aside.

But what would that mean for Johnny?

Loki stands up gracefully, his tall menacing figure looming over you. Automatically, you reach over and grab your discarded dress as you stand. Loki tilts his head and looks at you with calculated derision.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He inquires in a treacherous tone.

You pause, turning around to look at him. Your features twisted with worry and confusion. “Getting dressed?”

Loki’s lips curl into a dangerously calm smile as he approaches you. “Did I say we were finished?”

Your blood freezes. Truthfully you thought you _were_. During your last two _meetings_ , Loki had either taken your mouth or your cunt. But never _both_.

“Come here.” Loki demands as he removes his jacket and unbuttons his shirt with nonchalant ease.

You shake your head, taking a step back as your eyes fall on the bed your husband died in. The weight of today’s events and your culpability suddenly press down on you with a crushing force and your tremulous body is left trembling. Usually, you would simply play your designated part with clandestine ease. But not this time. Not today after everything. “No...not that. I _can’t_...not today.”

Loki’s eyes flicker with animosity and displeasure and he takes another step. “What did I say about _testing_ me?”

“I can make it up to you next time. Just _please_ not today-” A crack of pain erupts across your face as Loki slaps you.

You gasp and reach up to gingerly cup your cheek. The skin burns and you look up at him with surprise and alarm. And something inside of you snaps, like a taught piano wire wound too tightly. You let out an angry screech as you lunge forward to shove him away with all of your might. Taken by surprise, Loki stumbles back, but swiftly grabs your wrists. You try to punch against his chest as hard as you can but he merely tightens his grip painfully. You fight against him like a crazed banshee, teeth bared with ferocity. You try kicking him with your kitten heels. Shins, knees, groin, anything within your reach. But another harsh slap sends your jaw ringing. You’re momentarily dazed and Loki yanks you close by your neck. He glowers down at you, panting, with mussed hair.

“ _Enough_. You are mine to do with as I wish. But if you need _further_ confirmation, I have no qualms with carving my name into your flesh.”

Beyond reason, you ignore his ominous threat and shove him away again. But the fingers wrapped around your neck slip down to grab onto your mother’s pearls. You cry out with despair as the necklace is severed and the pearls rain down in a miserable cascade.

You watch the pearls fall and hear them bounce against the wood and rolling in all directions. You move to step away but another hard slap sends your head flinging to the side. Your face is on fire and Loki digs his fingers harshly into your upper arms. Before you can even react, your body is colliding against the unforgiving ground, knocking the wind out of you. You feel his fingers touch your ankle and you kick your legs wildly. Instinctively calling out for help, but knowing no one will come. They never did before.

Loki’s fingers grab a fistful of your hair and slam your head back against the floor. There’s a bright flash of light and your eyes briefly lose focus. You automatically bring your hands over to protect your face and attempt to draw into yourself as you’re overwhelmed with waves and waves of brutal memories.

“ _Stop_ Richard!”

Loki halts his actions and raises his chin with a mildly perplexed look on his face. “Richard?”

You freeze, realization hitting you squarely in the chest at your slip up. You stare up at him, trembling with dismay and dread. His emerald eyes trail over you with a keen interest.

“Now _that_ is an interesting reaction.”

You say nothing and flinch when he reaches up to stroke your cheek. His piercing eyes seem to stare down at you with a knowing glint. “Fortunately for you, dear Richard is no longer a problem, hmm?”

A pang of fear clutches your heart. _No...he couldn’t..._

Loki cups your jaw and leans in to whisper in your ear. “I would have had him _skinned alive_ if I knew how he treated you.”

The irony of his despicable promise is not lost on you as you lay, scuffed and tear stained beneath him. Nevertheless, you feel a temporary swell of relief spread in your chest. Loki leans down and presses his lips gently to your forehead.

“Oh you poor wretched thing. I should have staked my claim on you the moment I first saw you. Richard should have been dealt with long ago. But no matter. You are now free of your disgraceful matrimony and we have all the time in the world to make up for it.”

That familiar combination of trepidation and nausea clutches you once more and you try to roll away. Loki yanks you back by your ankle and forces your legs apart, settling his lean body in between your thighs. Your hands reach up, desperately seeking flesh to dig into , but his strong hands slam your wrists on the floor by your head. His eyes are ablaze with malicious blithe. He could easily shut you down. Threaten Johnny and demand your reluctant compliance. But that’s not what he wants. Not really.

You feebly squirm beneath him, his length once again hard and pressed against your bare thigh. Loki leans down, his lips brushing along your jaw.

“Kiss me.”

“I’d rather die.”

“Well that can _certainly_ be arranged.”

Reluctantly, you raise your chin and allow your lips to be captured by his. Beneath you, some of your mother’s pearls dig mercilessly into the soft flesh of your back. You press against the floor even harder. Concentrating on this small uncomfortable sensation can help distract you from everything else. Loki releases your wrists, unconcerned by your halfhearted attempts to cease his actions. He knows he’s won and that you’ve resolved yourself to your fate. Loki reaches down and shoves his long tapered fingers into your panties. Stroking your soft folds with practiced ease. He smirks down at you and your stomach furls with unwanted desire and disconcert.

“For someone who claims to despise me, you’re awfully _wet,_ kitten.”

“Just get it _over_ with,” You growl, your hands rolling into tight fists at your sides.

“I think you enjoy this _far_ more than you’re letting on,” Loki purrs, pulling your panties down your legs and unsheathing himself. You say nothing, merely shift your gaze above his head to look at the ceiling. There is a rather large water spot that sort of resembles your Italian neighbor, Sal. You should probably call the building manager to come sort this out before the problem worsens.

A quiet hiss erupts from your lips when you feel Loki thrust into you. Your hands automatically lift to grasp onto his forearms as he buries into you to the hilt. He grunts into your neck as his hips snap into your pelvis, unconcerned if you are ready for him or not. One hand squeezes your breasts through the thin silky material of your bralette. Pinching and twisting your nipples harshly to draw out any meek noise he can from you. He’s not bothering to touch your more intimate area below. It’s not about your pleasure. It never has been.

You allow yourself to melt back into the floor, your eyes glazing over with distant daydreams. You wonder what flavor ice cream is being sold by the park today. You were always fond of chocolate. You allow your mind to flip through memories associating with the sweet taste. Your father getting you a cone at the county fair. Sitting on the front porch with your mother, sharing a bowl of it and practicing your spelling. Johnny’s favorite flavor is strawberry. You’ll have to pay Mabel back for taking him out today. Maybe some banana bread? Or an upside down cake?

A hand swiftly clenching around your throat brings your attention back to your current assault. Loki hovers mere inches from your face, his features carved in quiet ire.

“Oh _no_ , kitten. You’ll stay here with me.”

On instinct, you wiggle beneath him, bringing your hands up to try and pry his from your neck. He sneers, satisfied as he thrusts his hips faster and crueler into you. Unfazed by your attempts, his fingers tighten dangerously around you.

“There’s a good girl.” He pants, his other hand grasping your hip tightly. You know there will be bruises later. You can’t remember a time in the last six years when you weren’t mottled with deep purples and blues. You thought things would be different after Richard was gone. How stupid and naive you were.

Loki moans and you see the sweat begin to gather on his forehead. His long dark hair brushes against your bare flesh, making your flustered body burn even hotter. His fingers tighten around your neck and his thrusts pick up speed. You bite your tongue to fight the pitiful whimpers from escaping your lips. You try everything to fight the way your body is clenching around him.

“Who do you belong to?” He hisses against your tear stained cheek.

“You,” You reply wearily as the force of his movements send you sliding back and forth on the floor.

His hand finally leaves your throat, only to grab a fist full of your hair.

“Again.” He growls, his movements becoming frenzied and desperate.

“I belong to you,” you answer with practiced surrender.

Loki curses under his breath and to your surprise, he quickly pulls out. Before you can protest, he spills his seed across your neck and breasts. You lay there, mortified and disgusted. After a brief moment to gather himself, he smirks, trailing a finger across your collar bone.

“Lovely. That looks _far_ more fetching than mere pearls, don’t you think?”

*******************************************************************************************

Several minutes later, you’re furiously scrubbing your neck in the bathroom sink. Even though it’s clean and rubbed raw, you could still feel the sticky residue staining your skin. A small bloom of blue and purple was beginning to form on your cheek, as well as several finger sized abrasions on your arms and thighs. It couldn’t be helped. You would have to come up with an excuse tomorrow at work. You could cover up the ones on your body but your face? At least Richard never bothered to leave a mark there.

You should really go back in the room to clean up the fallen pearls, lest Johnny gets a hold of them and puts them in his mouth. But you’re not ready to go in there again. And you wont be for a long while. So for now, the door will simply remain locked.

Quickly, you toss your funeral dress back on but remove your ripped stockings. The less Mabel questions, the better. You both long for her comfort and company and dread it’s inevitable draw with reality. The tell tale sounds of your apartment door creaking open sends your heart racing. Another look at your reflection sends a pang of disquiet unfurling in your chest. You fix your hair as best you can and emerge from your room to greet them. There is nothing you could do for your red rimmed eyes. You should be thankful that Loki left before Mabel and Johnny returned but right now, you are just too _tired_.

You plaster on a small smile as you see your beautiful sweet boy, reaching for you with sleepy hands. It takes everything you have not to break down as you take him from Mabel and press soft kisses to his forehead, cheeks and half closed eye lids. You can feel Mabel’s sharp eyes taking in your disheveled appearance and you don’t dare meet her eye. Turning away from her, you feign puttering in the kitchen for a drink.

“Was he good for you? I was a little worried, he would be fussy since he didn’t get to nap today.”

“Y/N.”

She never says your name, preferring nicknames and niceties, and the mere utterance almost causes you to shatter. But you swiftly recover as you set a couple of glasses on the counter.

“Did Lorraine happen to be there with Alice? She told me they like to stop by a couple of days a week.”

“Y/N, look at me.” Mabel’s tone is firmer but still gentle.

“I think you would really like her. She seems really nice and Johnny thinks Alice it just the bee’s knees.”

“ **Y/N**.”

You spin around, glaring at her. You almost despise the look of pity that spreads across her face. Why can’t she just stop? Pretend like she doesn’t notice me like everyone else. It was much easier to just suffer in silence, even if it didn’t feel that way some days.

You stare at each other in silence. The humid June air had Mabel’s short white curls springing straight up into a halo framing her face. Her small delicate stature and age, would have anyone believe she’s feeble with little back bone. But you know far better than that. There is a hidden strength and you envy her for that.

“Don’t...” You warn her softly, rubbing small circles on Johnny’s back like you know he loves. He murmurs sleepily against your neck and sags against you. Mabel’s face twists with stubborn determination as she takes two small steps towards you, hand raised.

“Mabel please...just leave me alone.”

“I’d say I’ve done enough of that to last us a lifetime. You need help. Let me help you.”

You wince when she touches your bruised cheek with motherly affection. Shaking your head, you step away from her. “You can’t. Not with this.”

“Those men...they weren’t here to pay their respects were they?”

“No, Mabel.”

“Did they hurt you?”

“Mabel-”

“Did they **_hurt_** you?”

You say nothing, merely nod as you hug Johnny to your chest. He nuzzles against you, his fingers curling into the soft fabric of your dress.

“And they know where you live.”

Again you remain silent, letting the foreboding implication hang in the air. After a moment, Mabel sighs and claps her hands together.

“Well that settles it.”

“Settles what?”

“I’ll have to make some phone calls. I’m know Harvey and Edith will be happy to take us in. I’ve put aside a little money for a rainy day. We’ll pack _only_ what we need for now and send for the rest of it.”

Your brows furrow together in confusion. “Mabel, what are you _talking_ about?”

“We’re getting out of here. All three of us.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Notes: Hey everyone! Sorry for the long wait in between parts. I had a lot of other fics and challenges to work on and this one always take me the longest to plan and tinker with. I really appreciate everyone’s patience and I hope this continues to entertain. As usual feedback is always appreciated and thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> Contains: coercion, dubcon, noncon, sexual content, violence, mentions of domestic abuse, murder. Please mind the warnings.

You nimbly maneuver around the crowded tables and the standing attendees with practiced ease. Balancing your tray with one hand and stacking empty glasses with the other. The crowd is bustling and energetic tonight, which suits you just fine. On stage, Ruby stands beautifully, in a glittery gold dress and black feathers adorning the side of her hair. Encouraging the patrons to approach the stage in lively dance just to earn a pretty smile.

“Hey sweet mama, how bout another finger o’ hooch?” one of your customers drunkenly calls out to you. You wink at him as you lean down to pick up his empty glass.

“Right away, honey.”

You cast a quick glance over at the bar. There is a small crowd gathered in front, socializing or impatiently waiting for their next drink. If you were careful, you could probably refill your orders and get lost in the crowd once more before Loki spots you. You’d been fortunate enough to avoid him all evening, but you knew he was there. His presence ever lurking and suffocating.

Behind the bar, Thomas and the new hire, Michael are frantically filling nonstop orders. You slip in to the side and place your tray atop the bar and set the empty glasses close to them.

“When you get a chance boys, I’m going to need three Mac Daddies, A Gin Rickey, A French 75 and a couple fingers of giggle juice,” You order, carefully slipping back to avoid being seen from Loki’s usual table. Thomas shakes his mixer, looking at you with raised brows before confirming your order. You feel a tap on your shoulder and you turn to see Dorothy looking at you with painted pursed lips.

“Loki’s requesting you again. He wants your company.” You glance over to check how Thomas and Michael are doing on your drinks, but your tray is still empty.

“Tell him, I’m still too busy.” Dorothy rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “You already gave that excuse earlier and I’m _not_ going to be the one to tell him. Not that I understand his fascination for you. I mean what are you his moll, now?”

You glare at her as you shove your way past her, past the crowds and down the hall towards the bathroom. You know you were just fighting the inevitable, that he would seek you out anyway. But for the moment, however brief, you just wanted to pretend to live a life not your own. Bursting through the bathroom door, you lean over the sink and splash water on your face and neck. You purposefully keep your eyes averted from the mirror. It has become increasingly harder and harder to look at yourself. Patting yourself dry with a towel, you take deep breaths, knowing you’ll just have to swallow the shredded remains of your pride and play pretty doll for your demented benefactor. After gathering your wits, you straighten up and open the door, only to be greeted by Steve and Loki standing on the other side.

************************************************************************************

You squirm in Steve’s grip, horrified to feel him firmly press his hips against you. Your struggles, it seems, have stirred his loins. Loki steps in close and strokes your cheek with a devilish smirk. The men had forcibly led you out in the alley despite the bustling club. The sultry music and lively conversation permeated through the thick walls. Even if you screamed, there was no one to hear you.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I haven’t...Lou has just been keeping me busy tonight.”

“Well...considering I pay you far more, I should think you would spend _most_ of your time making sure I’m well taken care of, yes?”

You swallow thickly before responding. “Okay fine, just do what you came for and be on your way. I have other costumers,” You express bitterly, forcing yourself to relax within the men’s hands. The sooner you get this over with, the better.

Loki chuckles, trailing his fingers across your collar bone. “Now kitten, what have I said about that attitude of yours?”

Your attention is snatched by the sound of the alley door swinging open and a familiar voice ringing out.

“Y/N?” Thomas, steps out into the alley, eyeing the three of you warily. His gaze softens briefly as they meet yours, before narrowing coldly to address the men. “She’s needed inside.” He stares in a calm voice, though you hear the faint edge.

Loki scoffs as his fingers slide up your thigh. “She’s busy at the moment. Why don’t you come back to collect her once she’s finished.”

You see Thomas’s jaw clench and he takes a step towards you. His hands ball into fists at his sides. “Let her go.”

“Or what?” Loki asks with a raised brow. You feel Steve tense up behind you, itching for an altercation.

You meet Thomas’s gaze with a panicked expression. “Thomas. Just go back inside. It’s okay.”

Thomas shakes his head and fear clutches your heart tightly. “You heard what I said. Let the lady go.”

Loki laughs deviously and grips your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Oh if you’ve seen the things she can do, you would know she’s _no_ lady.”

With that Thomas growls and lunges forward, fist bared to strike Loki square in the face. It all happens so fast, that you barely notice the weight of Steve’s body leaves you as he swiftly moves in front of the par of you to stop Thomas. There is a horrifying crack of knuckles against bone as Steve’s fists quickly connects to Thomas’s jaw. You watch, horrified as the blow sends him harshly to the floor. Blood already spilling from his mouth. You surge forward to see him, only for Loki to hold you back, his fingers digging painfully into your shoulders.

“Steve? Why don’t you show this fink what happens when he crosses me?”

Steve nods, menacingly cracking his knuckles before delivering a barrage of swift punches and kicks to Thomas’s crumpled body. He remains on the dirty alley floor, never allowed to stand or even defend himself. He never stood a chance. Each blow earns a pained yelp. You squirm in Loki’s grasp, screaming, begging for him to stop. Tears streaming down your face.

“Please stop! _Please!'_

After a few more agonizing moments, Loki finally says “That’s enough. I think he’s learned his lesson.” Steve straightens up and you flinch in disgust when you see the blood coating his knuckles. Thomas groans softly, but does not move from his spot. Loki finally releases you, his cruelty momentarily sated. He looks down at you almost disappointingly as his fingers softly caress your cheeks.

“As much as I would love to continue our little conversation, I’m afraid that pathetic crumb has taken up the rest of our time and I have business to attend elsewhere.”

With that, he and Steve depart. Much to your relief, not back into Lou’s but down the alley to an awaiting car no doubt.

Quickly, you turn to kneel down next to Thomas. A black eye is already forming, his nose is broken and his jaw is swollen. And that’s merely the damage that you can make out.

“Thomas? Thomas, can you hear me?”

He groans in reply, shifting slightly as his eyes open to squint up at you. You touch his shoulder gently. “Can you stand? I need to get you cleaned up.” With much difficulty, you manage to help him up, slinging one of his arms across your shoulders and helping him walk to the dressing room. Thankfully, it was near the alley door and a little more isolated than the rest of the club. Everyone was busy dealing with countless customers and drink orders so you know you wouldn’t be bothered. You carefully sit him down on the couch and grab a bottle of giggle juice and a clean wet rag. You pull up the chair from the vanity and sit down in front of him. He’s clutching his side and your brows furrow in concern.

“Thomas...can you open your shirt off for me? I need to check and make sure nothing is broken.”

He nods and you help him slowly unbutton his black vest and white shirt. It all feels very intimate and you scold yourself for even thinking that as you pull his shirt apart to look over his torso. There is discoloration over his ribs but thankfully, nothing appears broken. You touch his ribs tenderly and he hisses in pain.

“Your ribs are bruised so they’ll probably hurt for awhile. You’ll need to keep putting ice on them to help with the swelling. And take acetaminophen for the pain.” You recommend in a soft voice as you lean in with the washcloth in hand. For a moment, you are silent as you dab away the blood on his face. His hazel eyes follow your movements.

“Thomas...why did you do that? You could have been _killed_.”

“I couldn’t...I couldn’t just watch and let it happen.” He admits, grimacing as you carefully press the washcloth against his bruised cheek. You huff, a mixture of emotions churning in your belly. Guilt, aggravation, sadness, anger.

“I had it under control.”

“ _Nothing_ about that was alright, Y/N!” Thomas exclaims, wincing when his outburst exacerbates his injuries. You place your hands on his shoulders, both to try and keep him still and to offer comfort. “I know. But there’s nothing we can do.”

Thomas stiffens beneath your hands as the realization washes over him. “How long...has this been going on?”

You pause briefly, before reluctantly replying, “A few weeks. Richard’s bills were too much and Loki offered to help me. When I agreed, I thought he simply wanted the money owed in return. But he wanted...something else. And now he won’t stop.”

“Why don’t you report him? I can be a witness.”

You shake your head firmly. “You _know_ he has dirty coppers on his dime. Even if I _did_ manage to report him to a worthy flatfoot, it would just be buried. Besides...I accepted his money.”

“You could have asked me for help. I would have.” Thomas reaffirms quietly, reaching up to cup your cheek.

“You don’t deserve that. Being treated that way.”

You lean into his fingers slightly, before gently pushing his hand away.

“I’m leaving, Thomas.”

“Leaving?”

“There’s nothing left for us here.”

“Nothing?” His hazel eyes look up at you with something you haven’t seen in a long time. Hope. You give him a sad smile as you gingerly touch his bruised jaw.

“I’m sorry. But Richard is dead and it’s best for Johnny and me to move on and find a new life somewhere else.”

“I...understand. But what do we do about Loki? Surely he’ll notice when you don’t turn up.”

“He can’t know, Thomas. Do not breathe a word. I’ll tell Ruby but don’t you _dare_ say a word to anyone else. I mean it.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “When?”

You hear a creak in the hallway and your head jerks toward the sound. When you hear nothing else, you turn your attention back to Thomas and lower your voice. “Soon. A week or so.”

“I...I won’t ask you to stay.”

“Then don’t.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“I’m not leaving yet. No need for goodbyes now,” You tease through the thickness in your throat. You turn to ring the cloth in the sink, watching the blood swirl down the drain. “Now let’s finish getting you cleaned up.”

**********************************************************************************

“I don’t like this,” Mabel affirms the next afternoon, her bright blue eyes narrowed in stubborn determination.

You lean back against your chair, mug in hand. The two tickets you purchased this morning lay before you.

“This is the way it has to be. I will not put you both at risk.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone down here.”

“It will only be for a few more days. Just enough to pick up my final paycheck and take care of any last minute arrangements.”

“Don’t be dingy. You don’t need it. We’ll take care of you,” Mabel insists, but you wave her suggestion away.

“No. You’ve done so much for me already. Your family is taking us in. I will not burden you anymore than that. Plus, every cent counts.”

There is a pause in your debate and you watch Mabel struggling to say her next words.

“What if something happens to you?” Mabel quietly asks. Her usual witty retort, thick with fear and emotion. Your eyes flick over to Johnny in his high chair, happily devouring some fresh lemon bread. You lick your lips, fighting the subtle nervous clench of your chest.

“Give it a week. If you don’t hear from me in seven days...” your voice trails off, wavering slightly. You shake your head, suppressing the anxiety bubbling within you. “Just promise you won’t come looking for me. I’ll give you all of the money I’ve saved up. Put it towards...Johnny’s future.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t even _think_ it.” Mabel tries to reach for your hands but you pull away.

“We have to prepare for the worst, Mabel. I’ve only seen a small part of his cruelty. Who knows what Loki is truly capable of. And I _won’t_ have you both paying for my mistakes. Please...promise me if something happens to me, you and Johnny will stay in Milwaukee. Start a new life. And forget about me.”

“I’m not going to promise that because that won't happen. But I _will_ promise you that Johnny will be well taken care of until you join us.”

You smile faintly, temporarily satisfied. You take a sip of your tea before calmly placing the cup before you. “I still have to sell Richard’s Lincoln. He never let me drive it and I’ve never had any use for it before with everything being so close.”

“All the more reason to use it now. Why don’t we just take it to Milwaukee?”

You shake your head. “Titles and tags can be traced. We need to disappear. Lucille has mentioned they’re in need of a new car. I’ll admit it would be a tight squeeze for a family of four, but at the very least her husband could use it. I’ll have her pay me in cash and sign it over to her.”

“And the rest of Richard’s things?”

“That’s for Sal to figure out. Frankly, I don’t care what becomes of the rest.” You reply bitterly, sending a cursory glance around your apartment. To the untrained eye, it seems as though nothing is amiss. But you know the few sparse items, you’ve begun to pack up are out of place or missing. You couldn’t take the chance of Loki stopping by your apartment unannounced again and notice all of your things packed up. So temporarily, everything you deemed worthy to take with you was hidden away in Mabel’s apartment. With the exception of a small suitcase full of clothes for you and Johnny that you keep in the closet. Thankfully, Loki had not stopped by since Richard’s funeral. But that didn’t mean he left you entirely unmolested. After the incident with Thomas, you did every degrading he wanted, enough to keep him placated and satisfied and not think anything amiss. You simply had to play your part just a little longer. And then you would be free. You lean over and gently wipe Johnny’s mouth with a napkin.

“Then it’s settled. You and Johnny will leave tomorrow night.”

************************************************************************************

The next evening, you try to hold back the tears as you dress Johnny for the final time in Mabel’s apartment. He sees your somber face and reaches up to you with chubby hands. You plaster on a wide smile as you lean down to press kisses into his palms. He giggles when you start snorting like a pig and you tickle his sides, sending him into peals of laughter. You wish this small moment of happiness can last forever. But you know it can’t.

You hear Mabel enter the room behind you. “It’s almost eight,” she reports sadly.

You let out a forlorn sigh as you pick up Johnny and hold him to you tightly. He wriggles in your grip, but you don’t let go right away. It’s only when he starts to whine and you feel Mabel’s hand on your shoulder that you finally put him down. You watch him as he toddles over to his brightly colored blocks scattered on the floor, your heart threatening to splinter to pieces.

“Are you sure about this? It’s not too late,” Mabel questions.

You nod as you carefully fold Johnny’s favorite blanket, if only to give your hands something to do. “It’s safer for you both to go without me. I promise I’ll meet you there in a few days.”

Mabel says nothing, merely nods as you prolong leaving to start your shift. You feel the tears well in your eyes. “Make sure to take Mr. Floppy. He doesn’t like to sleep without him,” you say gesturing to the stuffed brown rabbit, still in the crib.

“I will.”

“And if you give him a bath, don’t use any beads. He breaks out in a rash.”

“Okay.”

“And if he can’t go to sleep, try rubbing his back and singing to him,” Your voice catches as the tears slide down your cheeks.

“We’ll be alright. You just worry about getting yourself up there,” Mabel orders as she squeezes your shoulders affectionately. You turn swiftly and give her a big hug. The subtle smell of her rose perfume fills your nose.

“I mean it. Don’t you keep us waiting long,” Mabel warns lightly.

“I won’t,” You whisper softly against her shoulder. You pull away and reach down to pick up Johnny one last time, kissing his forehead and both cheeks. “You be good for Miss Mabel, okay? She’s going to take good care of you until Momma comes back.” Johnny coos and for a heart wrenching moment, you swear you hear what sounds like the beginning of his first words. You hug him again. “Your Momma loves you, never forget that, Johnny.” And then you hand him over to Mabel and quickly leave before you could change your mind.

****************************************************************************************

Two hours into your shift and you’re already exhausted yet filled with a nervous energy. With the exception of taking their drink orders and spending a humiliating twenty minutes sitting in his lap, Loki hadn’t called on you all night and so you were left filling your regular duties. Then again, perhaps you shouldn’t be surprised. Ruby and another pretty young waitress seem to be entertaining them just fine. You look up at Thomas who slides you another Mac Daddy. Anything to take the nerves away. Thomas’s usually handsome face is covered with bruises. The rumors had spiraled when he first emerged from the dressing room. Neither of you would ever tell the truth. Some say he stopped a robbery. Others, say he saved a baby from a kidnapper. Each story more ridiculous than the last.

“You okay?” He asks, his eyes darting over to Loki’s group.

You take a large sip from your glass. “I’m fine. Just want this night to be over.”

He nods before being called over to serve someone else. “Let me know if you need another top off.” He calls over his shoulder.

“Will do,” you mumble under your breath, embracing the liquor aided warmth that spread across your chest.

******************************************************************************************

An hour later, you let out a sigh as you lean back against the bar, finally taking a much needed break. Your feet were beginning to throb and you could feel the sweat gathered at the nape of your neck. Your stomach churned with alcohol and anxiety. Dorothy slides in next to you, your tiff a couple days ago clearly forgotten.

“Huh. I wonder where James went?” Dorothy wonders out loud, looking over your shoulder towards Loki’s booth. Your eyes shift over to follow her path and you notice his absence as well. You roll your eyes as you slide your empty glasses across the bar toward Thomas. Not bothering to follow her gaze.

“Probably left to throttle some poor soul.”

But there was something deep down that bubbled within you. A deep gelatinous dread. Something didn’t feel right. You looked up at the clock mounted on the wall. There were still a few hours until your shift ended. But Mabel and Johnny’s bus would be leaving soon. You know once they’re out of the city, a huge weight would be lifted off of you. You could figure things out for yourself. Endure what you had to. As long as they were safe.

****************************************************************************************

Another hour later, you’re cleaning some of the tables. It was getting late and though Lou’s was still thriving, several people had slipped away to crawl to the next clip joint. Just then Ruby comes over to you, worry etched on her face as she bites her bottom lip. “Y/N, something happened earlier. I don’t...are you and Loki involved? What is going on between you two?”

You shake your head a little too quickly. “No, why would you ask such a thing?”

She bites her bottom lip, hesitant to continue. "While I was there, entertaining, Lou came over and whispered something in his ear. Loki became furious. I had never seen him like that. So... _cold_. Then he sent James away for something and dismissed me. I tried not to eavesdrop but Y/N...I heard your name.”

You feel the earth sway beneath your feet and a heavy weight plummet in your stomach. You hear Ruby try a talk to you but her voice is muffled as though you’re hearing her underwater. Panicked, you look over to meet his gaze across the club. His emerald eyes are narrowed with contemptuous victory. His mouth pulled into a dangerous sneer. Once again James sits by his side. Your eyes slowly widen as realization pours over you. 

“ _No..._ ”

With that you shove past her, her startled cries following you out of the club.

_Nonononononononononononononononono_

It repeats like a mantra in your head as you sprint down the street. The bright neon signs melt together in endless streaks as you hurl past them. Barely avoiding confused drunken passerbys also occupying the sidewalk. Car horns blaring next to you. You make it home in record time as you take the stairs two at a time. Praying that you’re wrong. You reach your floor and halt suddenly.

The door to Mabel’s apartment is cracked open.

Everything is silent. You lightly push the door open and step inside, only to immediately feel a wave of nausea overcome you. Your knees shake and your legs threaten to buckle underneath you. Inside Mabel’s apartment is a disaster. Drawers to cabinets are yanked open and papers are tossed about carelessly. Several of her coveted books are scattered about the floor along with a few shattered picture frames. One of the throw pillow is destroyed and white feathers litter the floor. And in the center of the destruction lies Mabel. Her blue eyes wide and unfocused, starting up at the ceiling. A single bullet wound in the center of her forehead. Blood seeping out beneath her like a macabre halo, staining her white curls. Next to her is a small, half finished sailor suit tangled in unwoven threads.

You shove your hand against your mouth as you let out an animalistic scream. Tears pouring down your cheeks. You didn’t want to step inside. But you _had_ to. Because you heard no crying.

There was a rushing sound filling your head, like crashing waves and radio static as you step past Mabel’s body. Each step down the hall sends the world tilting this way and that. You sway and brace yourself against the wall.

_Not him. After everything please don’t take my baby._

After several agonizing seconds, you peek into the last room where you moved the crib this morning. Inside, Johnny lay sleeping. You had to draw closer to make sure. His little chest rose and fell. Mr. Floppy lays next to him. A single swipe of blood across its stuffed cheeks.


End file.
